


Pull of the Moon

by Thatswherethelightgetsin



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-23 12:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12507568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatswherethelightgetsin/pseuds/Thatswherethelightgetsin
Summary: Vince makes a mistake, Howard makes a friend and then he makes a decision.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is finished for the most part. I'll be posting Fridays and Tuesday for a couple of weeks. 
> 
> \----
> 
> This is technically a fill for a prompt over on Everything Bagel:
> 
> Vince is usually the one doing the chasing, but what if Howard finally gets his shit together and decides to have a proper go at pursuing, wooing, and seducing Vince? Not all macho or dominating or out of character, but in a very Howardy way, the sort Vince can appreciate.
> 
>  
> 
> And THANK YOU TO Cabinet-Captain for being wonderful, beta-reading and listening to my constant whinging.

It was his fault, he realised. Too late to do anything about it, but he should get credit for hindsight. His new high-fashion pirate hats were selling so well that he couldn't keep up with demand, and were even bringing in a stream of customers to the shop. He'd been high on the success when Naboo suggested he run a little stall in the corner of the shop dedicated to them. It felt good to be doing something creative and successful so he didn't think anything of accepting the offer.

Only, now there were so many more customers, Howard needed help in the shop too. He'd not thought much of that either, he was too busy being interviewed by Cheekbone about his latest line. In fact, he didn't give it a second thought until one day he looked across the shop to see some bloke standing behind the counter. He was probably about Vince’s age (his real age - or what he thought was his real age - it got a bit confusing). He was quite good looking in a sort of bookish, serious way, but was doing his best to disguise it under his clothes and huge, thick glasses. The type hipsters were starting to wear ironically.

He frowned. Was that his replacement? What were they thinking? No way was he going to be able to replace him. He didn't have any style. Where was the glamour? Where was the drama? He was wearing a jacket over a knitted jumper and he hadn't done anything with his dark, curly hair. Vince felt a bit smug and went back to serving his line of customers and taking orders.

By lunchtime he was mostly sold out and needed to get to work on creating more. He looked up from his order form and froze.

Howard was talking to the new guy. Which, yeah, made sense given they were now co workers, only there was something wrong with the scene. The new guy was smiling. At Howard. And Howard was standing tall, not hunched over and trying to hide under his hat like normal. He frowned and walked as casually over to them as he could manage.

“Alright?” he said when he was close enough, with a raise of his head in greeting. “I'm Vince.”

The new guy smiled politely at him. “I'm Mark,” he said. “Nice to meet you. Howard was just telling me about the job.”

“Ah don't listen to him!” He added a cheeky grin to show he was just messing about. “When I started at the zoo he told me all sorts that turned out to be rubbish.”

He saw Howard draw himself up out of the corner of his eye. “I taught you everything you know!” he said.

Vince knew that to be true: he had been well thick before he met Howard. He'd been the first person who had actually taken the time to help Vince with his homework. Before that it had mostly been a jumbled mess of text that he couldn't pin down long enough to take in. Howard was the only one patient enough to spend the time helping him.

In fact, it sometimes felt like Howard had taught him literally everything. It was even Howard that suggested he started modifying his clothes. Everything he had was always too big for him, cobbled together from whatever they could get from charity shops, and they never fitted him right. Howard had suggested he cut off the cuffs of one of his jumpers so his hands could poke through without rolling his sleeves up. It was a disaster, of course - the stitching came unraveled and the cut was all jagged. But it had made him feel powerful, like maybe he could control something about the way he looked.

All the important parts of him seemed to be bound up with Howard.

“As if,” he said with a roll of his eyes, mentally shrugged off the thoughts. He wasn't sure why he wanted to rewrite their shared history. It was something they did a lot, but usually as a joke or to make it better. Not like this. Not to erase their lives together. But he felt a bit sour about Howard saying it in front of someone new. He knew he still wasn't the smartest. Certainly not as smart as Howard and not nearly as sophisticated. It hadn't used to bother him. But lately it hurt, the way Howard pointed it out at every opportunity, like Vince wasn't trying so hard to make himself better. To live up to what Howard wanted. “Look,” he said, instead of any of the thoughts swirling in his head, which were making him feel a bit dizzy, “if he starts giving you any nonsense about bookmarks or elbow patches, you can just come to me.”

Howard's face locked up, a sure sign a lecture was on its way.

“Elbow patches?” Mark said, turning to Howard and breaking the moment. “Do we sell them? I've got a jumper at home that I was just thinking of adding some to. Can I see them?”

Vince blinked at him, totally confused. Howard was starting to smile. A delicate, fragile thing.

He'd made a mistake. He felt a stab of panic at the look Howard and Mark were sharing. It made him feel left out and a bit vulnerable.

“Oh no,” he said, attack being much preferable to showing the hurt. “You're a hipster.”

Mark blinked at him, seeming confused. “I mean, I guess.” Then he seemed to take in Vince’s clothes. “Oh,” he said slowly and stepped back a bit. “You're a Camden goth. Look, those hostilities are over, since the last peace talks there hasn't been a single incident.”

“Hey,” Vince said, holding his hands up, “I was never a part of all of that. I'm live and let live when it comes to fashion.”

Mark eyed him for a moment, looking a little concerned but slowly began to relax as Vince gave him his most winning smile. “Okay,” he said, smiling back. “Good, because I really need this job.”

“Great!” Howard said loudly, breaking any residual tension. “Now that's all sorted, let me show you those patches.”

Vince watched them go, feeling a bit unsettled. He had been telling the truth when he said he wasn't part of the skirmishes that had been taking place across London between Hipsters and goths. But he knew some of his friends wouldn't be best pleased if they knew he was working with one of them; feelings hadn't exactly warmed between the two sets of fashionistas, even if open hostilities were over. He ruffled his hair, checking that it hadn't gone flat in the rush of the morning and decided to keep Mark working with them quiet for now.

He didn't think about it again until later that night after they'd closed the shop. “That Mark seems like a fine fellow,” Howard said suddenly into the silence.

Vince’s head snapped up from where he was tidying away the last of the hats he'd made. He couldn't remember the last time Howard had complimented anyone. Even when he started hanging out with Lester it had been with an almost grudging acceptance of his knowledge of jazz.

Vince narrowed his eyes. “He seems like a berk,” he said before he'd even thought about it. It was more of a reflex at this point. He'd never liked it when Howard started talking about other people and he naturally tried to discourage him from forming any bonds outside their friendship.

It had always been like that between them. Howard was his first real friend. He'd never had to worry about sharing a friend before him and he knew right away that it was rubbish. When someone else was there, Howard didn't look at Vince. He might miss the chance to make a joke together, or slip into a spontaneous crimp. Vince wasn't sure about much back then, but he sure as hell knew that wasn't the right order of the universe. Not Vince's universe anyway. It only functioned right when Howard was there with him, when Howard was looking at him. Besides, whenever Howard was around other people, he was different. He wouldn't want to talk to Vince in the same way. Suddenly their stories were ‘weird’ or Vince needed to be ‘quiet now’. It made him anxious that they'd never be able to get back into their own world. It proved mostly unfounded; he always found a way to drag Howard back eventually. And sometimes - the very best times - he didn't even have to. Howard would come to him and want to make up stories or a crimp.

Vince had never claimed to be smart but he knew for certain that he'd only ever felt fully and completely accepted and cared for when Howard was giving him his full attention. When they were apart, it felt like Howard might forget him and Vince felt invisible. Like he might disappear without even a puff of smoke to show he'd been there. That's how he'd felt before they met: invisible. His parents had tried their best but they were always so busy, especially after his mum got sick and his dad got sad.

So, it might make him selfish and greedy to crave Howard's attention like he did, but it seemed to be built in. In the past it had never seemed to matter. Howard might groan and snipe at him, but ultimately he seemed just as happy in Vince’s company as Vince was in his.

Now it was different; Howard seemed harder and harder to pin down. Maybe it was his own fault. In fact, he was sure of it. It had all started to change when he realised that his feelings for Howard weren't normal. It was confusing because his feelings had never seemed to change. But when Vince got other friends things started to seem off. When Howard would smile at him his chest would flutter and he'd want to giggle. That's not what happened when Leroy smiled at him. It was just a smile. With Howard it was like winning a race or eating a whole bag of candy. It wasn't until Howard left him to go to the zoo that he finally realised what it was.

He was in love. It was scary at first but once he'd thought about it, it actually made sense. Howard and him were joined in some way and love was as good a word as any to describe it. So he'd dedicated himself to making Howard see it too. Only he couldn't figure out how. He seemed determined not to notice his subtle, or sometimes forthright, flirting. He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter. Howard loved him in his own way and Vince had more than enough of the other sort for both of them. But it was getting harder and harder to feel that way.

It didn't help that Howard wasn't reacting like he used to to Vince’s suggestions they hang out. He was becoming more and more distant and it was making Vince act out in return. Over the last year he'd tried every variation and trick he could to make Howard snap out of it. To get them back to where they were, or even better, move them on. But none of it worked and he was pushing them further and further apart in the process.

His heart was starting to beat faster. Howard couldn't get a new friend. That might be the final nail in the coffin of their friendship. He wouldn't need Vince at all if he had other friends. Vince would be alone again and he didn't know what would happen then.

“He picked up the stock rotation system in under two hours.” Howard said it with the same reverence as others might reserve for heroic feats and winning Oscars.

Vince rolled his eyes. “So, he's boring,” he said as his heart beat even faster. He'd never even tried to learn about Howard’s system. The numbers confused him and he didn't really understand why they even needed it. Naboo would tell them what needed selling and Vince would make sure it was all gone before the end of the day. Why did they need a complicated system to track it?

Howard glared at him. “Just because you refuse to learn the intricate system I've created-”

“It's a clipboard with a list of things Naboo robbed off the council last week,” he said. He knew there was more to it than that but felt a flash of vindictive pride when Howard blushed and puffed out his chest.

“I have revolutionised stock rotation. Brick-A-Brack Monthly did a feature on me last issue-”

“They said you’d ruined stock takes for future generations,” he pointed out with a bit of smile. Howard had been so upset at the time that he'd let Vince make them dinner and snuggle up to him on the sofa. He was always more affectionate after a knock to his pride. Vince tried not to enjoy it but could never quite manage not to take advantage a bit. He'd never claimed to be a good person anyway, no matter what Howard might say when he let Vince comfort him.

Howard drew himself up again. “They fear me, like all pioneers before me. I am the Socrates or Nostradamus of my generation.”

“Weren't they murdered for being well annoying and pedantic?” It was a genuine question but he knew the reaction he'd get by asking it.

Howard looked ready to storm from the room, but at least he wasn't talking about Mark any more and he was reacting to something Vince was doing. Some part of him knew that this wasn't the healthiest way for him to get attention but he didn't know what else to do. “That's as may be, little man, but their legends live on well after their deaths. That will be me, they'll talk of me long after I'm gone.”

“For ruining stock taking?”

Howard slammed down the feather duster he was using to clean the top of the cabinets. “I’ll be upstairs preparing next week’s rota.”

Vince watched him leave and chewed his lip. He sensed something bad was coming. But, as usual, he felt totally powerless to stop it.

\-----

He tried to keep a closer eye on Howard and Mark the next day. But it was difficult with so many people in the shop all wanting to talk to him. Mark was wearing an oversized jumper and rolled up jeans. He looked a bit like a little kid playing dress up as a lumberjack. He scowled and wanted to say something cutting but didn't quite have it in him. Besides, part of him knew the look was in and Mark actually looked sort of sweet, if a bit ridiculous.

Besides, it wasn't like Howard would ever notice something like clothes anyway. He was all about deeds and words. Vince knew he was never very good at the latter so he'd tried hard at the former. Not that it mattered. Howard never really seemed to notice any of his achievements. Like becoming Prince of Camden or fronting a band. If anything, they seemed to make him annoyed and more dismissive than ever.

Vince’s head snapped up suddenly as Mark let out a bark of laughter. He was looking at Howard with a startled but amused expression. For his part, Howard was practically glowing with pride. Vince desperately wanted to know what they were saying but he couldn't hear over the din of the customers. He glared but there wasn't much he could do from all the way on the other side of the shop.

“I don't want to make the hats no more,” he told Naboo that night, trying not to fidget with his hair and look firm.

Naboo levelled him with a long stare. “Is this about the new bloke?”

Vince squirmed. He wasn't good at lying but he wasn't about to admit that he felt jealous and was scared of being left behind. He'd rather take another Nicky Clarke to the hip. “As if,” he said. “I just think pirate hats are over so you might as well fire what's his name now and I can have my old job back.” When Naboo continued to stare at him he added. “You know, leave them wanting more.”

“I can't just fire him,” Naboo said, slowly. “I agreed to pay him for at least a month. So you're stuck with him until then.”

Vince wanted to argue but knew it would be pointless. He feared Naboo was trying to teach him some sort of lesson. But he wasn't in the mood to even begin to fathom what it might be.

\----

“Where are you going?” Vince demanded as Howard made his way out the door the next day. He'd been aiming for a more casual tone but he'd barely slept after Naboo’s refusal to fire Mark. He'd been trying to come up with an alternative plan but so far he was coming up short. He was out of options, short of scaring Mark off somehow. That seemed the best bet, but he wasn't sure how to pull that off without implicating himself.

Howard looked momentarily embarrassed before the shutters came down, his face locking out any emotion. “Lunch,” he said.

Vince glared at him. “You've never gone out for lunch in your entire life,” he said. Howard had had the same lunch for as long as Vince had known him. A ham sandwich on white bread with an apple and some salt and vinegar crisps. The salt and vinegar had been about as far as young Howard had dared rebel against his father - who thought anything other than cheese and onion was an outlandish frivolity and was to be regarded with extreme suspicion.

He knew what the next words out of Howard's mouth were going to be before he said them. But his stomach still plummeted when he heard them. “Mark suggested a new place that I might like. I thought I'd buy us some sustenance to see us through the delivery we've got coming later.”

There was a time that any mention of “us” out of Howard's mouth would have been about him and Vince. That seemed like a distant memory now. “What about me?” he squeaked before he could stop himself.

Howard frowned. “I thought you were in a diet?” he said slowly. “Isn't there some dance you need to attend?”

Vince forced himself not to roll his eyes. He'd been talking about the new club opening for months and Howard must know that. He was also right, the outfit he'd made wasn't exactly forgiving and he'd been worried about fitting into it. Howard had been on at him to eat more, like it wasn't clear how important the night was to Vince. He scowled. “Yeah, well maybe I just want to look at it. That's how people are eating now. With their eyes, it's well cool. You can have anything you like and never put on any weight.”

Howard's frown deepened. “I'm not buying you perfectly good food just for it to go to waste. Mark is actually arranging a food drive for the needy this afternoon and it wouldn't look good if you're there throwing away food so you can fit into some ridiculous outfit.”

It was the perfect combination of cruel sentiment and condescending tone to cut Vince. The insinuation that Mark was better than him. Dismissive of something that was important to him and all wrapped up in a declaration that Howard was leaving him behind. He thought for a horrifying moment he might well up. So instead, he glared as hard as he could. “Alright, just because neither of you would know fashion if it mugged you. Go get your crappy lunch, I've got some girls coming over anyway.” He didn't. But he could sure as hell rustle some up to show Howard he had his own things going on.

Howard looked a bit put out for a moment before he shrugged. “Okay, fair enough.”

Then he was gone. Vince resisted the urge to trash the place by digging his nails into his palms as hard as he could.

\----

Things seemed to take a momentary upturn in the middle of the week. Howard stopped looking upbeat for no reason and started to stare mournfully out of windows instead. Vince suspected a falling out. He was secretly impressed that Howard had managed to keep the whole thing going for an entire week. That was a new record.

Howard didn't tend to do well with anyone that might be considered normal by traditional standards. With ‘normal’ people Howard would be all bunched up, all the beautiful little parts of himself scrunched down painfully. He held them down so tightly his brow would crease with the effort, his lips tight with concentration. They still tried to sneak out when Howard wasn't looking, though. It was like a pressure cooker and something had to come out eventually. It usually happened in a sudden burst and Howard would end up scaring people away.

Vince didn't know how to explain that if he just gave in, just let himself be, he'd be more relaxed. And maybe people might be able to see what Vince saw. That Howard was beautiful. Not in the boring way most people seemed interested in, but beautiful and special nonetheless. Not that he wanted them to. Part of what made Vince special, perhaps the biggest bit of it, was seeing that in Howard. He'd been amazed at first to find that other people didn't. For Vince it had been clear the moment they met: Howard didn't see the world like other people did. He was set apart from it and that made it possible for him to see things other people didn't. Like that Vince could talk to animals. Or that adventures were everywhere, even in your back garden, if you only looked, really looked, for them.

He thought maybe it was because most people were too busy following some code that Vince had never really understood. Howard on the other hand seemed trapped between the two. He was weighed down by the rules everyone else lived by but never able to properly follow them. Vince knew Howard’s father had hammered this invisible code home hard everyday, until Howard was crushed under the weight of it; maybe that was why he was so hunched over all the time.

He used to think he was helping Howard escape it. Now he was starting to worry that he might actually be the problem. Maybe he was what was trapping Howard part way between the two ways of looking at things. He tried not to think about that because it just made him sad and anxious and he was no more capable of giving Howard up then he was of breathing underwater.

Despite being a bit relieved to see the return to normal in Howard's demeanor, he still hated to see him upset. So he settled himself down next to where Howard was staring into space with a pained look on his face. He was still for as long as he could be before gently nudging Howard with his shoulder. “Alright Howard?”

Howard sighed. “Not really, Vince, no,” he said.

He tried not to smile at his dramatic tone. “What's up?”

There was another long silence where Howard emoted out the window and Vince waited patiently for him to speak. “I was just contemplating my existence.”

“Your existence?” It was going to be bad if Howard was already at the tortured poet stage of moping. Vince wondered if he ought to have cancelled his plans to go out that night.

“It's a solitary life,” Howard said. “As many great men before me, I fear I will live a lonely life. With no one to share in my trials.”

Vince bit down firmly on the urge to point out that he was there. That Howard was already sharing his life with someone and had been since he was a child. “Come on,” he said instead. “It can't be that bad.”

Howard gave him a level look. “Vince,” he said slowly.

Vince looked back at him and frowned. Howard looked nervous. It wasn't an unusual expression, but Vince wasn't used to having it tuned on him. “What?” he asked, suddenly sure he didn't want to hear the next thing out of Howard’s mouth but he felt trapped.

“There are… things that you don't know about me,” Howard started slowly, like the words were being dragged out of him one by one.

Vince swallowed. “Don't be daft,” he said, his mouth dry. “I know everything there is to know about you. Like that time you-”

“Vince,” Howard cut him off. “You don't… I...” There was a long pause where Howard’s eyes darted about the room like he was trying to plan an escape route. Again, not an unusual Howard look, that was practically his go-to expression. But it was unnerving in the current context and Vince wanted to stand and run but felt rooted to the spot.

“What, Howard?” his voice was harsher than he meant it to be. He'd expected it to come out shaky and scared like he felt but he sounded angry.

Howard flinched. “Ilikemenandwomen.”

Vince tried to run the words over in his mind to separate them out. But it was like they'd slipped right out of his head. “What?”

Howard took a slow breath. “I erm, I'm not just…”

“Are you trying to come out to me again?” The words tumbled out of him without him having a chance to consider them.

Howard blinked and turned an interesting shade of red. Then, very slowly and deliberately he nodded just once. About three hundred and forty different thoughts seemed to crowd their way into Vince's brain. This was a very delicate moment. He'd been waiting a long time for Howard to finally talk to him about the fact he might not be straight. He'd known for years. Almost as long as he'd known about himself, but Howard had stubbornly refused to bring it up (other than in a jokey and vaguely hurtful way like at his party) and he was never sure how to do it himself. It seemed rude to force the issue and when he'd tried to gently bring it up Howard would clam up or shout at him. He had started to assume that Howard would just never admit it, that he'd pretend not to be staring a bit too hard when Cillian Murphy was on the telly for the rest of his life. It was just another reason on his mental checklist of things that meant nothing would ever happen between them.

He knew he had to be careful with what happened next. His heart was beating wildly and something terrifying, a bit like hope, was blooming in his chest. Of course, what came out his mouth was, “You do like bumming, I knew it!”

Howard went an entirely new shade of red that had probably not even been discovered before. “I don't… That is to say… I've never… I haven't had the chance…”

Vince rolled his eyes. “I know you're a virgin Howard,” he said. “But that don't mean you don't like it. Like, I've never fronted the Rolling Stones, but I know I’d love it.”

There was an aborted attempt from Howard's face to smile and something relaxed in Vince. “Well,” he said. “I mean, I guess… I don't know what I would like but, Howard Moon does not discriminate based on gender.”

Vince grinned. “That's well good,” he said. “I ain't been bothered about that for years.”

He wondered if Howard was going to kiss him. It seemed like the right moment. It was what he'd been waiting for since they were teenagers. Howard would finally admit that he wasn't straight and then they could be together. This was turning out to be the best day of his life. Easy. Even better than that time Howard bought him all those sweets at Halloween and wore the costume Vince had made him.

“Not that it matters,” Howard said, deflating back to his previous moping position against the sofa. “I will never get to explore the great adventure of love.”

Vince frowned. “Why's that?”

“He'll never return my feelings,” Howard said slowly. “I am doomed to walk this Earth alone. I’m too complex, too fated to be misunderstood and overlooked.”

Vince’s frown deepened and his stomach dropped. This did not sound like the lead up to a kiss or any sort of declaration of undying love. He'd imagined thousands of scenarios over the years but none of them started like this. “This is about that speccy idiot from the shop, isn't it?” His tone was more even than he'd feared it might be.

“Mark is…” Howard trailed off. “He's-”

“Well boring and dresses like a geography teacher!” Vince hadn't expected to raise his voice and flinched at himself.

“He's a very sensitive soul,” Howard said, seeming a bit offend. “He writes poetry.”

Vince swallowed heavily and willed himself not to cry. He dug his nails hard into his palms and concentrated on that until the feeling had passed.

It was over. He'd known for a long time that Howard didn't - couldn't or wouldn't - return his feelings. It weren't Howard's fault, really. But it chipped away at him. Times like now, when it was clear that Howard would never want him. There had been so many of those moments. Like when he hadn't wanted to practice kissing with Vince. Or when he didn't let him dance with him at their school dance. Or when he ignored Vince’s drunken flirting when he got the zoo. Or when he chose to chase Mrs Gideon, no matter how indifferent she was, and ignore Vince's suggestions that he could look elsewhere. And now, when he was finally happy admitting that maybe he fancied a bloke, of course it weren't him. He should have known it would happen eventually. He'd seen the way Howard looked when he talked about Tommy. It weren't all hero worship. Not that Howard would admit it at the time.

It made sense. Mark was smart and he read books. He didn't even seem to hate jazz. It was pointless for Vince to even try and compete. He hated this feeling. Of constantly feeling dizzy and happy and excited one moment with Howard only to be left humiliated and sad the next.

“Every hipster writes poetry,” Vince snapped. “It's probably about climate change and only eating nuts.”

Howard sighed. “You're right. He'd never be interested in me.”

Vince wanted to scream or throw things. How Howard had gotten that from what he'd said he wasn't sure. But Howard always found a way to make it a slight on himself. Always turned everything inwards, like a black hole for positivity.

“I will die alone,” he seemed more resigned than sad, like he'd suspected as much but had just needed it confirmed by Vince.

“Come on Howard,” he said, his desire to protect him kicking in, despite the fact it felt like Bollo was sitting on his chest.

“No,” Howard shook his head. “It's okay, he'd never be interested in me anyway. What do I have to offer him anyway? A sad, old, failed jazz musician from Leeds.”

Vince's heart twisted in his chest. He could never bear to hear people badmouth Howard, even if it was Howard himself. “It ain't that bad,” he said, despite himself. “I can help.”

Howard squinted at him, like he suspected Vince was laying a trap and was just waiting for it to spring. It made him feel even worse. When did Howard start to think everything he did was just some ploy to embarrass him? That was usually only an accidental byproduct of Vince's plans, and only because Howard managed to mess them up somehow. He reached forward and clapped Howard on the shoulder. He flinched but didn't snap at him to get off, which Vince took as a win.

“I mean it,” he said, forcing the words out. He wanted Howard to be happy. He always had. He'd hoped against hope that would mean they'd be together. But if it didn't then there was no point in both of them being miserable. Just because there wasn't anyone else for him didn't mean the same was true for Howard. He deserved to at least have a shot at being happy. “Look, you're new to this gay thing, but I can help you out. I been snogging guys since I were a teenager. I can help you pull.”

“Howard Moon does not pull,” he said, narrowing his eyes again. “What I feel for Mark is pure, a connection of the soul.”

Vince rolled his eyes to cover the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Alright. But you're still going to need my help if you're going to get his attention and that is something I know all about.”

Howard gave him a long, unreadable look. He still seemed suspicious. Which was possibly because it had been a long time since either of them offered to help the other. Seemed like years sometimes. They'd been drifting apart and Vince didn't want that. Maybe this would help them claw back something like a friendship. That would make it worth Howard finding someone else, if he could at least have him as a friend. Because at the moment it was possible Howard would find someone and leave Vince behind entirely. This was better. Having Howard in his life and happy with someone else was better than not having him at all.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd start to believe it.

\----

“Vince,” Howard said softly that night, after they'd settled down to sleep.

Vince startled at the sound. Lately they'd not been talking after they got to their bedroom. They'd been sharing a room for over two years now but, while they'd started off chatting as they drifted off, they tended to ignore each other now if they were getting to bed at the same time. Vince had been trying to avoid that by being out late as much as he could. That meant Howard was also up before him and so they could keep their interactions to a minimum. He preferred it; he hated how stilted their conversations had become. It seemed every other thing they said to each other was designed to hurt.

“Yeah Howard?” he said, turning his head to look at him. It was mostly dark in the room, but the light from the street outside was falling over Howard's bed. Vince could make out his features, pinched and worried looking as he stared at the ceiling.

“Could you…” Vince watched as he bunched the sheets in his hands tightly. “Could you tell me a story?”

Vince smiled to himself. Howard hadn't asked for a story in ages. “Which one?”

Howard sighed softly. Perhaps pleased that Vince hadn't refused. He'd done that sometimes, when he was feeling particularly sour at him. He knew his stories relaxed Howard and sometimes he didn't feel like letting him off that easy. But tonight, after Howard had shared something so private of himself, it didn't seem fair to keep it from him. Besides Vince liked telling him stories.

“I don't mind, maybe something from when we were young.” Howard sounded wistful and Vince wondered if he was thinking of his parents again. If he was worrying what they'd think of him liking men.

“Remember that ocelot that escaped from the zoo?” he asked after a minute.

“Didn't he end up at our school?” Howard asked.

Vince grinned. “Taught maths for ten years. Mr Garcia was the best teacher there was. Well before that, before he even came to the zoo, he ran a smuggling operation out of his bar in South Mexico.”

“No,” Howard said in a scandalised tone.

“He was the head of the whole outfit,” Vince confirmed. “He grew up on the mean streets of Toluca,” he pronounced it in the most ridiculous Mexican accent he could muster and was rewarded with a snort from Howard. “He had to work his way up the ranks in the local crime family by running errands and bribing the local police with satsumas. But eventually he made enough money to start his own operation in a new city.” Vince imagined the scene as he spoke, how he might paint it. Perhaps the ocelot could wear one of his pirate hats.

“What happened?” Howard asked. “Why did he end up at a zoo in London?”

Vince grinned. “It was a terrible story,” he said solemnly. “He was betrayed by his wife and best mate.”

“What?” Howard asked, just the right amount of horror and intrigue in his voice.

“Yeah,” Vince confirmed. “He'd gone crazed with power. He was living like a war lord, throwing satsumas at anyone who dared cross him. In the end they had enough. Sold him out to the police and ran off to start a new life together in Texas - they opened a charming B&B on the banks of the Mississippi. But Mr Garcia had to go on the run. He had all sorts of adventures before he came to London.”

“Was he caught by the zoo?” Howard asked.

“Nah,” Vince shook his head. “He gave himself up. Felt he needed to atone for his crimes. But once his time was up he was out of there. Started a new life as a teacher.”

Howard let out a slow breath. “Thanks Vince,” he said softly after a moment of silence.

Vince bit his lip and considered his next words carefully. “Howard?”

“Yes Vince?”

“You know it's okay, right?” he said, his voice a bit more timid than before. “That you like men? I know your dad-”

“Vince.” There was a warning in his voice but Vince felt compelled to keep speaking.

“He didn't know everything. He wasn't right about everything either.”

“Like about how washing machines were the route to slothiness?” Howard's voice was small, even as he was trying to joke.

“Yeah, like that,” Vince agreed. “It's okay to like men. It's just part of who you are. It ain't any different from liking women, ‘cept sometimes there's a bit more stubble involved in the kissing.”

The silence went on for so long that Vince thought Howard might have fallen asleep. But then he all but whispered. “Thank you Vince.”

Vince let out a long breath, a light, happy feeling filling his chest. Howard had done so much for him over the years, to make him okay with who he was, he was pleased to be able to return that. But mostly, it felt nice to have Howard speak to him in that gentle, pleased tone. The one that meant he'd done something right. “Night Howard,” he said, not wanting to chance ruining the moment.

“Night Vince.”

 

tbc


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you are being wooed by a Moon you know it. It's like a powerful tide.” 
> 
> “Drags you out to sea and drowns you?” Vince ducked his head to hide his grin. 
> 
> Howard's mouth quirked and he turned around to continue the washing up. “Pulls you into my orbit, keeps you there until you are ready to be with me,” he corrected. 
> 
> Vince knew that feeling a little too well. “Well, when's this wooing going to start?”

  
“Do you even know if he likes men?” Vince asked the next morning over breakfast.

Howard paused in his dishing up of eggy bread and bacon - it was Vince's favourite and another sign that he'd done the right thing last night. Howard hadn't made this breakfast for nearly a year. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, hadn't you better check that he's up for a bumming before you try anything on?”

Howard went a very deep shade of red and began fussing with rearranging the food on their plates. Vince let him be. They didn't talk about sex. It had been a silent agreement for as long as either of them had anything to say about it. Howard found the topic too uncomfortable and Vince was always afraid he'd say the wrong thing and somehow give himself away.

“I think… that is to say… he has suggested that…” he seemed to run out of words and made a vague gesture with the spatula.

“Well, hadn't you better find out before you just ask him out?” Hope fluttered in his stomach at the thought that maybe Mark was straight and this might all just go away.

“How would I…?” Howard gestured again.

Vince was starting to get hungry so he reached over and took a plate, they might be there all day otherwise. He shrugged. “I don't know,” he said around a mouth full of food. “I usually just flirt a bit and see what they give back.”

Howard just stared at him for a long moment. He had a point. Vince chewed thoughtfully. He'd never had to do that part before. He wasn't particularly experienced when it came to dating men (or women beyond a few weeks). All his experiences tended to be based around men approaching him in clubs for a dance and a bit of a snog. There wasn't ever much need to check they were into blokes in that context. But he wasn't about to admit that to Howard. Not when he was the experienced one for once.

“Maybe you should just ask if he's single and see what he says,” Vince said in the end.

“No,” Howard shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. That is much too personal.”

“Well, maybe ask him about what TV he watches,” Vince suggested.

“You think he's just going to say Queer as Folk if he's gay?” Howard snapped as he sat down and began eating.

Vince rolled his eyes. “I don't know, maybe, but you could see if he only likes things with women in it or something.”

“That is a terrible idea,” he said.

Vince was silent for a moment. “Or you could talk about an ex and see if he joins in,” he said eventually. “Make one up I mean,” he added before Howard could point out the obvious flaw in his plan.

“I can't just make up an ex,” Howard said, sounding outraged at the very idea. “I can't start our relationship with a lie.”

Vince pushed down the little stab at the word “relationship” and rolled his eyes. “You're going to tell him you're a virgin that's only just realised he likes blokes then?” He sounded angry and mean even to his own ears and then felt immediately guilty when Howard visibly flinched. “Look,” he said. “You don't have to make someone up, just exaggerate what happened a bit. There must be someone you've fancied that you know well enough to pretend to have gone out with for a bit.”

Howard flushed a very deep red and began fussing with his food. Vince watched, fascinated, before feeling retrospectively jealous. Who the hell had Howard been lusting after? It must be someone Vince knows - they'd had the same circle of friends for most of their lives. Leroy maybe? Or someone else at the zoo? Tommy? Joey Moose perhaps? Howard had gone on a bit about what a man of action he was after their little adventure together. He was desperate to ask questions but knew there was no way Howard would give it up. Besides, it probably wouldn't do him any good to know the answer. It would probably be someone impossibly tall and well read. All broad shoulders and smouldering eyes. He scowled into his breakfast.

“Do you not like the food?” Howard asked after a moment, looking a bit concerned. “I thought it was your favourite, but I can do you something else.”

Vince immediately felt guilty for brooding when Howard was trying to be nice to him for once. “Nah,” he said, plastering a smile on his face. “This is genius, thanks Howard.”

His friend paused, giving him a worried look before nodding and going back to his food. Vince watched him out the corner of his eye, trying to be subtle and not alert Howard that he was staring. It was nice to be spending breakfast together. It was even nicer to have Howard fussing over it, making sure he liked it. He'd missed it. Maybe helping Howard would mean they got to spend more time together. At least in the short term. Before Howard and Mark were a real item and wanted to spend all their time together. Maybe the time they had now would would make that worthwhile.

“Maybe you're right,” Howard said as he stood to start the washing up. “I'll bring up an ex and see what he says.”

“Make sure it's a bloke,” Vince said, forcing a sly grin onto his face. “Otherwise it'll be more awkward for him to say the same.”

Howard looked unsure again.

“It's easy,” Vince said confidently. “Just say - ‘My ex always liked that. He was always going on about it.’ Something like that.”

He watched as Howard mulled over the words, trying them on for size. Vince wondered if everyone else could read Howard as easily as he could. It was like watching TV sometimes, seeing Howard’s thoughts play out across his face.

“Okay,” he said, with a slow nod of his head. “I can try that.”

\----

Vince tried not to stare when they made it down to the shop. Mark was waiting outside the door, a little messenger bag over his shoulder and his dark hair messy and bit windswept from the autumn weather. Vince’s hands itched to pull it. Hard.

There was a queue of people waiting with him, so he didn't get to hear Howard greet him or if they chatted as they opened the shop. He didn't get much more than the odd glimpse of them for the whole morning; he was too busy with customers and having to run upstairs to restock whenever he got a moment’s break.

He was just finishing off a bespoke order when Howard appeared at the top of the stairs. He was red faced and panicked looking. Vince's stomach fluttered with fear. He'd seen that face a thousand times and it could mean anything from there was a girl in the shop to the world was about to end.

“He thinks I'm sleeping with Naboo!” Howard hissed, his long legs carrying him across the room in just a few strides.

“What? Why?” Vince asked, relaxing slightly but now totally confused instead.

Howard made a series of strange expressions before finally landing on annoyed. “You told me to talk about my ex!”

“And you chose Naboo?” Vince felt vaguely horrified. He was a pretty non-judgmental guy, but Naboo wasn't even human.

“What? No!” Howard said, seeming reassuringly horrified by the implication. “He just assumed.”

There were a lot of questions Vince wanted to ask about that but he settled on, “And did you correct him?”

Howard looked baffled for a moment, then embarrassed, before coming back to annoyed. “There wasn't time!”

Vince rolled his eyes. “You're going to have to say something. Did you at least find out if he likes men?”

Howard shook his head, and came and sat down opposite Vince, looking a bit shell-shocked. “I didn't know what to say. I said I had to get something and came up here.”

Vince’s chest tightened at the idea that Howard had come to find him when he was nervous. “It's fine, Howard, just make a joke out of it.”

Howard nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and standing back up. “Thanks Vince,” he said. “I better get back. Did you want me to get you some lunch when I go out later?”

Vince smiled. “Yeah, thanks Howard. That'd be genius.”

\----

“Okay,” Vince said later that night as Howard cleared away their dinner plates. “You're sure he likes men?”

“Steven isn't a unisex name,” Howard pointed out as he began running the taps.

Vince tried not to feel disappointed. It was a small hope, that maybe Mark wouldn't even like men, but he couldn't help feeling a little sad anyway. But Howard had been so excited when he told him, so proud of himself, that he couldn't bring himself to say anything discouraging. “Well, now you've just got to ask him out.”

Howard dropped the pan he was holding into the water abruptly, splashing himself and the surrounding floor with soapy water. He turned to face Vince, rubber gloved hands gesturing. “What do you mean, just ask him out?” He looked panicked for a moment before drawing himself up. “Howard Moon doesn't just ask someone out,” he said, chest puffed. “He woos them.”

“Woos them?” Vince asked. “That like some sort of mating dance what birds do?”

Howard rolled his eyes. “No, little man,” he said, “it's the art of seduction. Howard Moon takes his time, like the great poets and artists from history, I show my affection and win their hearts before I ask them to be mine.”

It was Howard's usual bluster, of course. His way of avoiding something he wasn't sure how to do. But that didn't mean it wasn't also true. Howard was a romantic at heart and always had been. It was why he'd never even managed to snog someone; if everything wasn't perfect and just the way he imagined it, then he floundered and pulled back. It was annoyingly endearing and Vince couldn't help but feel a little wistful at the idea of being wooed by Howard. It made him dislike Mark even more.

“You mean you dick about not saying what you mean until they get bored of waiting and find someone else?” He couldn't resist the urge to tease him, it was inbuilt. Although lately they'd struggled to find the line between friendly banter and trading hurtful insults and he felt a flutter of anxiety. He didn't want to argue with him, not if this was one of the last times they'd get to hang out alone.

“No sir,” Howard said, a little smile proving that Vince had managed to keep the right side of friendly this time. “When you are being wooed by a Moon you know it. It's like a powerful tide.”

“Drags you out to sea and drowns you?” Vince ducked his head to hide his grin.

Howard's mouth quirked and he turned around to continue the washing up. “Pulls you into my orbit, keeps you there until you are ready to be with me,” he corrected.

Vince knew that feeling a little too well. “Well, when's this wooing going to start?”

“Tomorrow,” he said firmly. The sounds of washing-up filled the room for a few moments. “Just err… You know, out of pure curiosity. Not that I don't… but, how might you go about… showing you like someone?”

Vince's mouth quirked. “I don't know,” he said. “I always complement their outfit or say their hair looks good. But Mark dresses like he nicked his clothes off his granddad, so I’m not sure that'd work.”

He grinned to himself, feeling a vindictive stab of pride at the jab even as Howard huffed. “Mark may not be buffeted on the winds of fashion,” Howard said, like he was conceding something grave in a war, “but that's because his concerns are above the material.”

Vince very much doubted that. He knew hipsters. They were just as prone to posing as Vince's friends, but hipsters liked to pretend they weren't. Vince had always liked the drama of fashion, of showing off a bit. Being seen was the point, he didn't like the idea that you ought to pretend to be above it all at the same time. But he didn't know how to articulate that to Howard, not without a fight at least. So he shrugged instead.

“Maybe you should compliment him on his bike,” Vince suggested.

“How do you know he has a bike?” Howard seemed a bit suspicious.

Vince rolled his eyes. “They all do. It's probably a fixed wheel one with a basket or something.”

“What's a fixed wheel?” Howard didn't sound like he much wanted to know.

“No idea, I think it means only one wheel goes round or something?” Vince had never bothered to ask. He wasn't much into exercise. He ended up having to run for his life enough without adding cycling to the mix.

“Hmmm,” he said which Vince interpreted to mean that he didn't like the idea.

“Or you could talk about global warming? I'll bet he's well into all that?” Vince wasn't much up on the latest news but he'd seen enough t-shirt slogans to know something was up and hipsters were very concerned about it.

“Global warming?” Howard muttered thoughtfully. “Yes. A suitably meaty topic to engage him in.”

Vince bit his lip, the familiar feeling of inadequacy flooding his stomach. He knew Howard missed having someone to talk to about the big issues of the day. He'd tried to keep up with it, but it just seemed to slide right out his head when it tired. Maybe that's what would make Howard happy; someone who could keep up with all the latest news and knew why exactly it was wrong to vote Tory.

Howard certainly seemed more relaxed since he started pursuing Mark. He was lighter, almost, less prone to sulking and snapping at everything Vince said.

“Shall I make a cup of tea while you find us a movie to watch?” he asked, staking the final plate. He paused, his arm still outstretched. “Unless, sorry, you're probably going out.”

Vince’s heart had leapt to his throat. Howard hadn't suggested they hang out for months. Truth was, he had been planning a night out. But, he could cancel. He wasn't about to miss out on Howard letting him pick a movie.

Besides, since he'd started to take it a bit slower in the scene and spending more time with Howard he had realised how tiring it all was. He loved his friends but there was always a tension with them. He was aware that their affection was based on his credibility and that meant always being one step ahead of the latest trend. He didn't mind that for the most part. He loved fashion and changing his look and he was truly proud of the position he'd managed to make for himself. But it didn't seem to get easier as he got more well known. If anything, it was worse. The pressure just seemed to ratchet up and he found himself getting anxious about slipping. It made him miss Howard more than ever, who never seemed to care about those sorts of things. He realised that he'd been tired and anxious for months, sometimes it felt like years. Maybe that's why he'd found himself in a bad mood so much.

“Nah,” he said, hoping he sounded casual and not overly keen. “There's nothing much happening tonight. I could watch a movie. Can we have popcorn too?”

He could see the twitch of Howard's moustache, hiding a little smile. “I’ll see if we have any. But make sure you pick something good.”

“Course!” Vince bounded over the TV and pulled at the draw of DVDs. He knew full well that Howard would complain whatever he chose, but wouldn't actually make Vince change it. Then he'd be totally into it almost immediately and snapping at Vince for interrupting with observations. He might even let Vince sit right next to him, with their legs pressed together, once he was fully absorbed. Once Vince had actually been able to pretend to fall asleep with his head on Howard's shoulder. That had been one of the best nights ever.

\----

Vince watched in fascinated horror the next day. Howard was into his eighth consecutive minute of a rant about recycling. Mark had started the conversation with a polite, almost interested, expression but was now looking glazed with a tint of concern. Vince hadn't been able to follow the train of thought Howard was on, but he certainly seemed to have conviction.

He thought he should probably interrupt but he didn't know how. Not with a line of customers to deal with and no clue how to do it without making the situation worse.

“And that!” Howard exclaimed some time later, “is why I've drafted the 200 rules of recycling. For future generations to follow and thus save our precious earth.”

There was a long silence after he stopped taking. “I err,” Mark said eventually, “I actually can't recycle. My flat doesn't have room for the bins.”

Howard looked horrified for a beat before huffing out an unconvincing chuckle. “Ha!” he said, his smile fixed and eyes darting about the shop, “Well, exactly. It's not all that important really. I never bother myself. I just throw our rubbish straight out the window. Who cares, right? It's only some litter.”

Mark’s brow creased in confusion but Howard talked right over him. “Anyway! That's enough for one morning, why don't you just get some lunch?”

“It's only ten,” Mark said, pointing at the clock above Howard's head.

“Yes!” Howard agreed loudly. “But you've earned it. Take until two.”

Mark looked like it was going to protest but Howard had already grabbed his coat from the stand and was shoving it into his hands. He paused for a long moment before shrugging and leaving the shop. Howard visibly deflated once he was gone, sagging against the counter and frowning deeply.

By that evening he was looking even more glum. Mark had come back after his long lunch but Vince could see that Howard didn't know how to recover from the morning. Instead he sent Mark straight to the store cupboard to tidy up.

By the time Howard was making dinner that evening, he had a little melancholy frown on his face. Even his moustache seemed to be drooping. It made Vince’s chest ache. He hated to see Howard fail. It never made a difference to him, but he could see the way it chipped away at Howard. It made his shoulders hunch, like he was bending under the weight of them. Some of them seemed to be just in Howard's mind, like the way the zoo had failed. It wasn't Howard’s fault, he'd been a good keeper, but he was no match for Fossil and Bainbridge’s greed and incompetence. But somehow, the reality would enter Howard’s brain and come out all screwed up and wrong. Everything was Howard's fault or bad once Howard had had long enough to mull it over.

There wasn't always much Vince could do about that. But he could try and make him win at this at least. “Maybe you should try a crimp with him,” he burst out as they ate - sausage and mash, another of his favourites.

Howard gave him a strange look. “That's our thing,” he said slowly.

Vince felt a bit giddy at the admission and in truth the idea of Howard crimping with someone else made him feel sick. But it was also a sure fire way to make Mark notice him. It was a big part of how he and Howard bonded in the first place, so it made sense that it would work with someone else. “Yeah,” Vince said pushing the thoughts and wave of nausea down, “but it would get his attention.”

“I'm not doing that with him,” Howard said, like the matter was closed.

It made Vince's heart beat faster. He sometimes desperately wished Howard wouldn't do things like that. He didn't mean to give Vince false hope, he knew, but it made his chest full and his stomach feel like it might be full of butterflies rather than the all the sherbet lemon he'd eaten earlier.

“Well, maybe you should try playing him something; everyone loves a musician.” He concentrated on eating so Howard wouldn't see his cheeks flush at the admission.

He'd always loved watching Howard play. It was him that got Vince into music in the first place - especially the idea that he could create his own. Howard's dad had insisted Howard practice guitar and piano everyday. Even when they had homework. Howard had diligently done so, even when Vince had pointed out that his dad would never know if he didn't. But it meant that Vince didn't have much to do while Howard was playing, so he'd picked up a bass guitar and learned a few songs. He wasn't very good; he didn't have the concentration to really learn, but he liked the feeling of creating something. Especially when Howard would look pleased with him and they could come up with songs together.

Half of Howard's mouth turned up at the idea, which was as good as he was probably going to get. “Maybe we could write something tonight?” Vince asked. He tried to sound casual, like he didn't care either way, but his heart beat a bit faster at the idea.

“Yeah?” Howard seemed pleased at the idea, his little eyes lighting up, even though his facial expression didn't change. Then he frowned abruptly. “Aren't you going out?”

Vince shifted in his seat. He'd cancelled all his plans for the week, expecting that Howard might need more help. Besides, he found that he didn't much care about missing things when Howard was being so nice and open again. But he didn't want to admit that to Howard. He might get the wrong idea. Or, rather, the right one. So Vince shrugged again. “No,” he said. “There's a break on all parties while we agree the next new big look.”

Thankfully Howard didn't question him. “Okay then,” he said instead. “You get the instruments and I'll clear all this up.”

They fell into their beds just before two in the morning. They hadn't really come up with anything but they were still flushed and giggling from the few bits they'd managed to put together. Naboo had shouted at them to shut up four times before Howard had insisted they stop. Vince felt a bit like he was floating as he looked over at Howard where he was lying in his bed.

“That was genius,” Vince whispered.

Howard turned his head to smile at him. “It was, little man,” he agreed.

Vince could feel the words he'd kept hidden for years welling up in his chest. He felt desperate to let them out. It might be his final chance.

But he couldn't. He couldn't bear the thought of chasing away the relaxed and happy expression on Howard's face. And he would. He knew Howard didn't feel the same about him. It didn't matter how much that hurt, Vince wouldn't risk unbalancing them again. Not when it was so good between them.

“I just hope the Spirit of Jazz doesn't turn up tomorrow,” Howard said firmly.

“Nah,” Vince said, turning into his back. “Naboo said he's gone for good. You'll be fine and then Mark will definitely go out with you.”

“Yeah,” Howard said, an odd note in his voice that Vince couldn't identify. “That’ll be great.”

He held in his sigh. “Yeah. Night, Howard.”

“Night Vince.”

\----

The Spirit of Jazz didn't turn up. Instead Howard somehow managed to start a small fire with his powerful solo. A nearby stack of old newspapers went up suddenly and Howard had to use Mark’s coat to put it out. The tweed jacket was now smoking gently and completely ruined.

“Ha!” Howard said, ineffectively rubbing at the charred material. “Sorry about that! Didn't realise I was quite so close to flammable materials!” He chuckled nervously while Mark looked mournfully at his jacket.

“That's okay,” he said, unconvincingly. “I have others.”

“I'll get you a new one!” Howard said suddenly, sounding a bit desperate.

“No,” Marks shook his head. “It's really fine. Don't worry.”

“No, sir!” Howard said firmly. “Howard Moon does not have debts! I will get you a new jacket or die trying!” With that he all but fled from the shop, the bell jingling loudly behind him.

There was a long silence after he was gone. All the customers had fled when Howard started playing. Vince watched Mark stare after Howard, his face confused and a bit concerned behind his stupid glasses. He hated that Mark didn't get Howard, that he clearly couldn't see how hard he was trying to get his attention. It made Vince’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Look, he's a nice guy,” Vince said suddenly, without realising he was going to. Mark looked up at him, seeming a bit startled. He took a deep breath before he said, “I know he's being a freak at the moment, but that's just his way of flirting with you. If you give him a chance, he's alright.” Mark didn't look convinced. Vince's heart started to hammer in his chest. He couldn't bear the thought of Howard coming back broken-hearted. He'd never admit it, but he'd be just a bit sadder than he was before, and it wasn't fair. He deserved to be happy. “Like,” he started, hoping he didn't sound desperate, “he'll listen to your music even though he pretends to hate it. And he’ll let you watch what you want on the telly, as long as he gets to watch stupid documentaries about Danish cinema sometimes. He'll always remember your favourite food and make it for you when you're down. Or sometimes he'll make you little cakes because it's Tuesday and you've always hated Tuesdays.” He sucked in a huge breath before hurrying on. “And he'll hold your hair back if you overdo it on the eggnog even though he told you not to and you're being sick all Christmas Eve. And he's funny too - not always on purpose - but it's still funny. And he'd probably write you songs if you're into that, he's a musical genius really. You should listen to him play some of his older stuff, it's great.” He realised he'd been talking for too long and shut his mouth abruptly.

Mark blinked at him for a long time and Vince felt himself blush. “I didn't know that's what he was doing,” he said slowly. He gave Vince a long look. “I mean, I was thinking of asking him out when I first started but… I don't want to get in between something.” He looked pointedly at Vince who was now definitely blushing.

He shook his head firmly. “You ain't.” He willed his eyes not to well up. “We’re just mates and he really likes you.”

Mark narrowed his eyes. “I liked him too,” he said, then smiled a bit shyly. “You know, before he tried flirting.”

“He's new at this,” Vince said with a shrug. “But he'll calm down if you actually go on a date.” He paused before adding, “Maybe a couple of dates.”

Mark nodded thoughtfully. “So you think I should just ask him out?”

Vince swallowed down the desperate urge to say no and shrugged. “If you want to. He'll be all weird about it, but that would probably be easier than waiting for him to get it together to ask you.”

Mark smiled again, showing his annoyingly straight, white teeth. “Okay,” he said, “thanks Vince.”

“Just don't tell him I told you, yeah?” he said, feeling suddenly a bit exposed and vulnerable.

Mark nodded amiably enough and Vince let out a breath. He walked quickly back to his stall just in time for the door to open again and Howard to reemerge.

“Hey Howard,” Mark said brightly with a smile.

Howard blushed and tripped over the mat. “Hi Mark,” he said. “Didn't err, didn't think you'd still be here. I got you a new jacket,” he said, holding up a green coat in his hand. Vince wondered where he got it but decided it was probably better not to ask.

“Thanks!” Mark smiled as he took the coat and slipped it on. Vince had to admit it suited him and it was a nice smile. He scowled. “I was going to head off but I was just wondering,” he ducked his head shyly. Vince bit the side of his cheek hard to stop himself from speaking. “Would you like to have dinner with me some time? You know, after work?”

“After work?” Howard repeated dumbly. Like that that was the main point of the question.

Mark grinned. “Yeah, like a date?”

Vince watched Howard’s face closely. It went through several expressions. There was a worrying moment where it hovered over suspicion and Vince thought he might sabotage himself but then it changed slowly into pleasure. It was like watching the sun come up after a particularly long and painful night. “I would be honoured, sir,” Howard said. It was a touch too formal and pleased to be anything like cool, but it made Vince’s heart feel like it was trapped in a vice. He ducked his head and concentrated on trying to add up how much money he'd made that day.

The numbers swam in front of his eyes and he concentrated with everything he had on them until the shop door went again. He looked up slowly, trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible.

“Well?” he asked, managing to (he hoped) sound casually interested.

Howard was blinking at the closed door, a glazed expression on his face. “We're going out. Tonight.”

“See!” Vince said, locking his face to keep his smile firmly in place. “I knew you could do it!”

“Yeah,” Howard said, seeming a bit confused. “I guess it must have been the guitar.”

“Yeah,” Vince agreed. “That must be it.”

Howard blinked a few more times at the door, before seeming to remember that Vince was still there. He puffed out his chest and grinned. “See, that's the old Moon magic. I'm a sexual dynamo once I get going.”

There was a joke there, Vince thought. But he couldn't bring himself to think of one. He felt cold and empty.

“Well,” Howard said, clapping his hands together. “I better get ready! We're meeting at eight.”

“Yeah,” Vince said, although his mouth didn't seem to want to form the words. “Better try and get that brown mist into some sort of hairstyle before then.”

Howard gave him a jaunty little wink and whistled his way up the stairs. Vince tried not to sag too obviously against his stall. But he let his head drop for a moment, and took a few deep breaths through his nose, willing himself not to cry. It was stupid. He knew this would happen if he helped Howard and it was silly to be so upset now.

“Vince, did you-” Howard called as he walked back into the shop.

Vince’s head shot up and he pulled his face into a smile.

“You alright?” Howard said, his face creasing in concern.

Vince sniffed and played with his hair, hoping to buy himself some time before he answered. “Yeah,” he said, glad that his voice didn't wobble too much. “Just trying to figure out these takings for Naboo. He's on at me to get them done, but you know I’m rubbish at it.” He gestured at his till vaguely to illustrate his point.

Some of his genuine emotions must have shown through the lie because Howard came right back into the shop, his frown deepening. “Hey now, little man,” he said gently. “Don't you worry, Howard Moon is a whizz at maths. I can help.”

Vince shook his head, if possible, actually feeling worse. He didn't want Howard to be nice to him. It was going to tip him over the edge and he'd start crying. The thing to do was start a fight and make Howard say something awful to him. But he didn't seem to have the energy and then Howard placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Come on, Vince,” he said softly. “It's okay, we can get this done in no time.”

“But your date,” he muttered, hating that he could now hear the upset in his voice.

“I've got plenty of time,” he said softly. “I wouldn't be much of a friend if I left you to sort this on your own, would I?”

Feeling Howard's solid, warm presence next to him was too inviting. “Thanks Howard,” he muttered, resting his head on the taller man's shoulder. It felt nice, even if it was only temporary.

\---

Vince didn't even consider pretending not to be waiting up when Howard got home. He sat on the sofa staring in the general direction of the TV but not taking anything in. He hugged a cushion close and bit at his lip, concentrating on the sharp pain of that to stop himself from thinking about what Howard might be up to. He was so immersed in not thinking that he jumped when Howard loomed over him.

“Alright Howard?” he said, trying to hide his shock.

“You're in,” Howard said, sounding mildly surprised.

Vince blinked rapidly. He'd forgotten that he even had plans. Leroy would probably have something to say when he next saw him but he couldn't seem to care. “Yeah, didn't feel so good,” he said.

Howard frowned. “What's wrong?”

Vince shook his head. “Don't worry about me! How was the date?”

Howard looked a bit uncertain before sitting down on the sofa. “Are you sure? You look a bit pale.”

Vince nearly smiled. There was no better feeling than Howard looking after him. “Yeah, I wanna hear about your date with Mark,” he lied. “Did you snog?”

Howard frowned like he wasn't sure whether to believe him. “The date was fine,” he said in the end.

It was Vince's turn to frown. “Fine?” He repeated. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Howard said slowly. “That is to say Mark was perfectly lovely. As fine a companion as a man could wish.”

Vince felt like he'd been punched in the gut but he grinned anyway. It was Howard's first date and he wasn't going to ruin it. “Great! Did you get some action?” He leant toward Howard and grinned cheekily at him.

Howard blushed. It made Vince's toes curl. “A gentleman would never kiss and tell. But we had a very pleasant evening and I believe we shall see each other again.”

“Well,” Vince said, to cover the way his face wanted to fall at the implication there might be something to tell, “you do work together, so you'll probably see him tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, but I mean romantically,” Howard said primly.

Vince sat back on the sofa. “I think I might go to bed,” he said, unable to continue the conversation. “I actually don't feel that good still.”

Howard's massive paw was covering his forehead in a moment, pinning him in place. “Hmmm,” he said slowly. “You don't feel warm. But I'll make you tea and a hot water bottle just to be safe.”

He knew he should ask more about the date. It's what a real friend would do. But he couldn't bring himself to. He just wanted to be coddled for a bit. He settled back into the sofa and nodded. Howard pulled the blanket off the back and draped it over him. “Just stay there and I'll be right back,” he said, before bustling away to the kitchen.

Vince snuggled down and tried to not to think about the future, about how soon Howard might be doing this for someone else.

He'd be alone then.

Howard came back to the sofa a few minutes later. “Shall I put on Colobos?” he asked gently, making room for Vince to lie down if he wanted to.

Vince nodded and handed over the remote. He lay down, his head nearly on Howard's lap and closed his eyes. He pretended to sleep until Howard picked him up and carried him to bed a few hours later. He didn't sleep until the sun was up.

\----

Howard and Mark saw each other nearly every night for a week. Every night Howard would come home with a small, pleased smile but was never very forthcoming with the details about what they got up to. Vince asked as many questions as he could bear to, which wasn't many. He was getting the sinking feeling that this might turn into more than a couple of dates.

It was something about the way Howard was carrying himself. Straighter, more at ease. Like he'd finally found something he could be proud of. Vince desperately wanted to be happy for him. And he was. Some part of him definitely was. But the rest of him just felt sad and lonely.

He barely left the house. The morning after their fourth date, he called in sick to work. Well, he sent Howard out to tell Naboo he was too sick to go down. He realised he must actually look bad because Howard seemed increasingly worried as the week went on.

By Friday, Vince had given up showering and was sitting forlornly on the sofa. He knew he was being pathetic. He was going to pull himself together. He was. Any day now. He just needed a bit more time. Just a bit longer to come to terms with the idea that Howard was leaving him and that he'd be alone. He just needed a plan first, some way to make the situation a bit more bearable. But his brain seemed to freeze at the first stage. He couldn't consider a life without Howard. It didn't seem feasible and so he just sat and felt sorry for himself and ate sweets.

That night Howard came back from work and sat next to him with a deep frown. “I'm a bit worried about you, little man,” he said slowly. “You've not been this sick in years. Not since-”

“I caught the flu off that chameleon,” Vince finished for him. “Yeah. I just feel all…”

“All overish?” Howard asked, touching a hand to his forehead.

Vince smiled thinly. “Yeah, exactly.” He lay his head against Howard's shoulder. “Good date last night?” It was a form of self-torture at this point but he couldn't stop himself.

Howard sighed. “It was very pleasant.” Howard had said the same exact thing after every date. It made him Vince feel sadder each time and he no longer had the energy to ask more questions. It was more than enough to know that things were still going well between them without hearing all the gory details. “When you off out tonight?” he asked into the silence when he could no longer bear it.

“I've taken a raincheck on tonight,” Howard said mildly.

“What? Why? Vince asked, turning his head to stare at him in astonishment.

“I’m a bit worried about you,” he said, not meeting Vince’s eye. “You're not yourself.

“I'm fine,” Vince said with a shrug.

“You're not,” Howard said firmly. “You're missing your big party! You must be really sick.”

Vince startled and whipped his head over to look over at the calendar pinned to the wall. Sure enough, today’s date was circled with sparkly gel pens several times and “Vince’s party” scrawled was across it.

“Oh,” he said. He'd completely forgotten and it was too late now. He should have been getting ready hours ago if he was actually going to be able to make it.

“Well,” he said eventually. “I'm sure there’ll be other parties.” He sensed that a few weeks ago he'd have been a lot more upset about missing it, but now none of it seemed to matter.

“But you made your outfit and you've been dieting for weeks!” Howard seemed genuinely concerned and Vince’s stomach twisted with guilt. He hadn't meant to worry anyone, least of all Howard, who was meant to be having the time of his life with his new boyfriend.

“I'm really fine, you see should see Mark,” he tried.

Howard shook his head. “It's okay, he's cooking for me tomorrow night and…” he trailed off looking a bit pink and embarrassed.

Vince felt sick. He knew, on some level, that they were going to spend the night together eventually. But he'd kind of hoped it would be the further away eventually. The one much closer to never. He should probably ask Howard if he was okay. If he needed to ask any questions or anything. But he didn't. He felt sick at the idea of knowing any more about it.

He was being a hypocrite. It wasn't like he'd waited for Howard before having sex. He'd had his fair share of partners over the years. But somehow it didn't seem the same. What he'd done had just been a bit of fun. He'd never even considered anything long term with any of them. Well, at least not recently. He didn't seem built to be anyone’s boyfriend and none of his partners seemed to expect it of him. But with Howard it was different. He wasn't the type to do anything casually. He couldn't commit to a broadband provider unless he was sure it would be a four year contract. If he was going to have sex with Mark, that meant it was serious. Possibly a forever kind of thing. He stared glumly at his hands and tried to think of something to say.

“I asked Naboo to look into something to help you,” Howard said, startling him out of his thoughts.

Vince felt cold with horror. “What did he say?”

Howard scowled. “He called me a ball bag and left the room. Which is not very caring. He's your boss, he has a duty of care.”

“It's alright, Howard,” he said slowly, feeling fond and hopeless all at once. “I'll be okay by the morning. You should go on your date.”

“It's fine,” Howard said firmly. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all.”

“How's it going then?” Vince forced the words out. It was only polite and Howard was being so sweet that he couldn't bring himself not to return the sentiment.

“It's good. Mark is a fine partner. We have a lot in common; he's a great reader and lover of the arts, like me.” Howard's tone was oddly formal but that was just his general awkwardness. He probably didn't know that wasn't how people talked about their partners.

“I'm glad,” Vince said, trying to infuse as much enthusiasm into his words as possible. When that sounded a bit flat, he added with a grin, “I knew you'd find someone as boring as you eventually.”

“I'll have you know our conversations are stimulating and fulfilling,” Howard said, narrowing his eyes.

Vince rolled his eyes. “That sounds like the dream relationship.”

“Yes,” Howard nodded thoughtfully, “it does.”

Vince wanted to cry. Instead he lay down on the sofa and pulled the blanket over himself.

“How about I make you pancakes for dinner?” Howard said, smiling at him. “I bought some chocolate sauce last week.”

“Yeah?” Vince asked. “Can I have hot chocolate with them?”

Howard tried to look stern for a moment but apparently his good mood wouldn't let him hold it. “Okay, little man, but you're eating my vegetable soup for lunch tomorrow and porridge for breakfast.”

Vince sighed dramatically, but he didn't really care. He couldn't seem to taste anything when he ate anyway. But having Howard look after him made him feel a bit less alone.

\----

“Right,” Howard was saying the next night, smoothing down his shirt for the tenth time. “I better get going. I wouldn't want to be late.”

Vince nodded from his pile of blankets and waved feebly. “Have a good time and be safe!”

Howard blushed scarlet and hurried down the stairs.

Vince waited five minutes to be sure he was really gone before bursting into tears. He wasn't sure how long later it was that Bollo’s huge frame made he sofa dip alarmingly, but suddenly he was being pulled into a huge hairy lap to be groomed with almost alarming aggression.

“Thanks Bollo,” he sniffed.

“Vince,” Naboo said from the kitchen. “You have got to pull yourself together. This is well pathetic.”

“Howard ugly and old,” Bollo grunted.

“I will,” he said to Naboo, sniffing again. “I just needed a cry. I'll be okay tomorrow.”

“You've been saying that for a week,” Naboo pointed out. “I need you at the stall. Look, I could hook you up with something. Make you forget all about this Howard thing.”

Vince froze for a moment. It was tempting, the idea of waking up tomorrow and not feeling like a limb was missing. But he didn't want to. Not really. Loving Howard was part of who he was. If you took that away there might be nothing left. He really would be a beachball and although that was tempting right now he knew he couldn't do it.

“Thanks Naboo, but I'm okay.” He pushed himself into a sitting position. “I'm going to take a bath.”

“Good,” Naboo said, eyeing him closely. “You're starting to reek.”

\----

By the time Howard returned the next morning Vince had managed to drag himself out of bed and put on some clean clothes. His skinny jeans were a bit tight, so he'd had to switch to his flares. He hadn't worn them since the zoo, but they were comfortable and he didn't plan on leaving the house anyway.

“How was it?” he said, surprised at how chirpy he managed to sound.

He'd spent the entire night carefully burying his feelings. It wasn't the first time. He'd done it after his mum and he'd done it after Howard left for the zoo. He could do it now. Vince had always known his main selling point was his sunny disposition. If he didn't want to lose the friends he had left, he was going to need to start making the effort. He'd take the weekend to make some new clothes and make sure he wasn't actually going to burst into tears at the slightest provocation and then he'd be back at it. He'd be back on the scene and making new friends and meeting new people. The thought was exhausting. But he swallowed it down. This was who he was and he didn't know how to change it now.

Howard did a bit of a double take at him standing in the kitchen with a cup of tea.

“You're up!” he said, unnecessarily. “I bought you some more sweets on my way home.” He held up a plastic bag, apparently laden with treats.

Vince grinned. “Cheers Howard.”

“And you're wearing your old clothes,” he said slowly, a strange expression on his face. “I thought you'd got rid of them when you went on the GI diet.”

“Nah,” he said, “you know I don't chuck clothes. You never know when something's going to come back in.”

Howard was staring at him oddly and it was starting to make him feel self conscious. He shifted. He was aware that he might have put on some weight over the last few weeks, he was stress eating, but surely he didn't look too bad. Maybe he should put on some makeup.

“What?” he finally snapped. “Do I have shit on my face?”

Howard blinked as though coming out of a daze. “No, sorry, you just look like you did at the zoo. It's…” he never finished his sentence and Vince was frankly too afraid to ask.

“So?” he said, hoping the change the subject. “How was it?”

“A gentlemen-” Howard began, blushing furiously.

“Yeah, I know Howard, lighten up,” Vince snapped, then immediately felt bad. It was nice that Howard wanted to keep something private. It wasn't like Vince actually wanted to know anyway. He just didn't like the idea of Howard keeping things from him.

“There was actually one err… One small thing…” Howard said after a moment. He was shifting from foot to foot and fidgeting with his jacket.

“What?” Vince prompted. “Is he into something weird and kinky? Don't let him pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with, Howard.” He tried to keep his tone light and teasing but his heart was hammering in his chest.

“No!” Howard shouted, looking mortified. “Nothing at all like that… It's just… well. He wants me to meet all of his friends.” He said it like he'd been sentenced to some sort of horrible death.

“Well!” Vince said slowly. “That's big news. That's like the modern day equivalent of meeting the parents.”

“I think meeting the parents is still the modern day equivalent of meeting the parents,” Howard said firmly. “But this is certainly a milestone in our relationship and I would hate to… that is to say… I mean, obviously I'm a man well used to meeting an array of interesting people and-”

“You're worried you'll mess it up,” Vince interrupted. It wasn't like his fear was exactly unfounded. Howard was never particularly good when he was the focus of attention. Or in most social situations really.

Howard looked like he might argue for a moment before sagging. “I would just… he seemed excited and I didn't know how to say…”

“We should throw a party!” Vince said, hating the forlorn expression on Howard's face. “I can invite some people along and he can bring all his friends. That way you won't be the only one meeting new people and I can be there too.” It was a solid idea. A party was just the thing he needed to relaunch himself onto the scene and get back into the groove of seeing people. Plus it was a way to help Howard out after he had been so nice to him while he was ‘sick’.

Howard’s eyes narrowed. “That's not a bad idea.”

“No need to sound so surprised,” Vince said. “I have loads of good ideas.”

“I suppose you've had one or two,” he conceded. “I'll ask Mark what he thinks.”

“Great!” Vince said. “How about Friday next week? That should give me enough time to sort everything out.”

“Naboo isn't going to let us have it here again,” Howard said after a moment. “Not after last time.”

Vince grimaced. “It's not like we knew that that bottle would summon all them buffaloes.”

“No,” Howard agreed. “It's just a shame that the second one caused a tropical storm in his bedroom rather than taking them away.”

Vince sighed theatrically. “He could have thanked us for cleaning up at least. But fine! I'll find us a venue too.”

“Thank you, Vince.” Howard seemed to genuinely mean it. It made Vince’s traitorous stomach flutter.

He rolled his eyes instead of grinning stupidly like he wanted to. “Whatever, this party is going to make sure that I'm straight back on top of the Camden elite.”

Howard just smiled at him and headed to their room.

\----

Vince spent the rest of the week in a frenzied panic about the party. He pulled a lot of strings to make sure they were at the trendiest bar. He then scrapped his last outfit and started a new one. He was so busy that he hardly noticed Howard going to meet Mark. In fact, he made sure of it. Nothing was going to go wrong.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Bollo said as soon as they entered the bar on the night of the party.

Vince glared at him. “It's going to be genius,” he snapped.

Some of his friends were already there, drinking and listening to the first DJ Vince had lined up. He had the whole night planned. They would start the party with just Vince's friends. Then he would make his entrance with Howard and finally Mark and his friends would arrive around ten. That way the party would already be going and it would be too loud for Howard to have to do much mingling.

Howard shifted uncomfortably next to him. He looked good. Vince had wanted to say so when he emerged from their room an hour earlier but his mouth wouldn't seem to let him. Instead he'd made a jab about his hat. That seemed easier. He was wearing dark cords and a strong print shirt and actual shoes for a change rather than socks and sandals. Even his hair seemed to be under control. He wondered if Mark was giving him tips and then promptly made himself concentrate on his own outfit instead of thinking about it anymore.

“Let's get a drink, yeah?” he called to Howard over the din.

Howard gave him an odd look. “Don't you want to see your friends?”

“Oh,” Vince said slowly. The thought hadn't occurred to him. He hadn't really seen anyone but Howard in two weeks. He was so used to spending all his time with him again that it seemed alien to make an effort with anyone else. “Right,” he tried to look a bit more enthusiastic about the idea than he felt, “course, just thought I should get a drink first. You know, keep ‘em waiting.”

Howard just nodded, and followed him towards the bar. They ended up having a couple of drinks. Vince kept meaning to circulate but then Howard would make a joke or point out something and he'd be distracted.

“It's time,” Bollo said, suddenly at their sides and nodding to the clock.

“What? No way is it ten already!” Vince said, but the truth was hanging above the bar in all its antique gothic glory. He glanced around and noticed the party was now in full swing, with people already dancing and laughing loudly around them. He'd barely noticed the room filling up. He glowered at the clock for a moment before turning to Howard. “Alright? Here's your big moment. Mark should be here soon.”

Howard looked a bit disappointed himself. But that was to be expected. He hated meeting new people almost as much as Vince enjoyed it.

“Right,” he said, playing with his hair and straightening his shirt.

The doors swung open at 10:05. Mark and a group of about twenty people entered the room. The music ground to a screeching halt as every one of the people in the bar turned to stare at them.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Bollo said again.

At 10:06 Howard took a step forward to greet Mark but was stopped short by a shout from the crowd.

“Who the hell invited these hipster wankers?”

Vince and Howard froze.

“You invited us to an ambush by the Camden elite?” Mark asked in a horrified voice. “Howard how could you?”

At exactly 10:08 one of Mark’s larger friends took a menacing step forward. “If you arseholes brought us here looking for a fight you are going to be sorry.”

Howard took another step forward at 10:09. “Listen, I think there's been some sort of mistake. We are reasonable people, we should just talk about-” He was cut off as a pot of hummus sailed through the air and landed on his head.

“Right!” Someone shouted from behind Vince. “That's it!”

By 10:10 there was chaos.

By 10:16 Vince was running through the streets of Dalston, Howard by his side, the sound of screaming and the smashing of glass ringing in their ears.

By 10:22 they had collapsed, panting, onto the steps of a pub not far from the shop.

Vince took a moment to get his breath back. He fluffed his hair and took a few steadying breaths. Howard did the same before they lapsed into silence. Vince held his tongue for as long as he could bear it.

“That was mental,” he burst out eventually, looking at Howard out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Who knew the rivalry between hipsters and goths had got so bad?” Howard said with a slow nod of his head.

“It was like West Side Story,” Vince agreed and then continued in a rush. “Sorry Howard, I haven't been out in a couple of weeks, I didn't know tensions had got so high again.” Howard nodded, looking a bit thoughtful, but not annoyed, so he added, “Thanks for saving me.”

“Thanks for dragging me out the window when eight of them came at us,” Howard replied with a clap of his hand to his shoulder.

“Thank god those avocados were ripe,” Vince said after a moment. “They could have done a lot more damage otherwise.”

Howard nodded gravely. “I've never seen tofu used as a weapon before,” he added. They were silent again.

“I'm sorry you got dumped,” Vince sniffed. He meant it. Or some of him meant it. The bit that never wanted Howard to be sad at least. He really hadn't meant for the night to end like that. In the run up, he'd been sure it would help him let go of Howard. He felt guilty and embarrassed and a bit shaken by how it had turned out.

To his great surprise Howard simply shrugged. “It's okay,” he said, his voice level and calm. “To be honest, I think he might have been a bit of a plonker. He didn't even know the proper way to store records, despite apparently collecting them.”

“On their side, hermetically sealed,” he supplied automatically.

“Exactly,” Howard said and reached out to ruffle Vince’s hair absently. He tried not to lean into the touch too obviously. But it was hard when Howard sounded so fond and he was sat so close. “Let's go home. I'll make us some tea.”

Vince felt himself relax immediately. He was sure when he'd heard Mark shout at Howard across the din of the brawl that he never wanted to see him again that it would send Howard into a spiral of depression and irritability. He could already imagine the return to the fragile and brittle relationship they'd had recently. It made his heart squeeze in fear.

But instead of snapping something mean, Howard stood and offered his hand to Vince who wobbled to his feet.

Maybe things would be alright after all.

 

TBC


	3. Chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His father had taught him many things. A lot of them still haunted him while he was trying to get to sleep at night. But the one that came back to him over and over was his father’s insistence that a man earn the right to marry his chosen partner. 
> 
> “No self-respecting woman will want you until you've achieved something, boy,” he'd said. “What have you ever done to make someone want you?” 
> 
> Howard had ducked the swipe with the rolled-up newspaper but the words had hit him full-force. The truth was he hadn't done anything that set him apart. He'd always imagined that by the time he was thirty he would have any number of great deeds under his belt: adventurer, scholar, writer. But there was nothing. Nothing he had ever done made him worthy of Vince. 
> 
> He'd tried at first, after he first realised his feelings, to better himself. To in some way become worthy. Going to the zoo. Trying to find the Egg of Mantumbi. Becoming a great writer. He'd hoped that they might show Vince that he was someone worth devoting his heart to. But none of it worked. It all just seemed to highlight how totally and completely he could fail at any field he tried his hand at.

Howard blinked awake at precisely 8:10am the next morning. He and Vince had got back to the shop at ten thirty, taking care to be sure they hadn't been followed by any angry hipsters. They hadn't talked much about the night, instead giggling about what Naboo and Bollo were still doing as they hadn't arrived home. Then they'd just watched some telly before heading to bed. It had been a very unremarkable end to a very strange night. During which he was unceremoniously dumped by his first ever boyfriend. First ever anything really.

Howard Moon was single again. He turned the thought over in his head a few times, checking it from every angle to see how it felt. He was mildly surprised to find he felt totally fine. In fact, what he might be feeling was something closer to relief. That probably wasn't the appropriate response to being dumped. But Howard Moon had always been a pioneer. Someone who stood apart from others.

He did feel a bit guilty about not feeling more sadness that he and Mark were no more, however. Mark was a fine man. Howard had spent the first few days after their first date in a daze of confusion. Everything seemed to have gone well. Mark had laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in what he was saying. It was… pleasant. He'd felt almost vindicated in some way. Which, he had to admit, wasn't the bliss he expected after finally going on a date.

In fact, being a boyfriend was quite different to what he thought it would be. They'd spent rather more time at flea markets and obscure art installations than he'd previously imagined. Which, of course, was fine. Howard Moon was a man of culture and refined taste. But the whole thing had struck him as a little… pompous. He'd found himself imagining what Vince would say and then snorting at his imaginary jokes. Mark would glare at him a bit for that and he'd have to pretend to be sorry.

In truth, Vince kept popping into his head rather a lot during his time with Mark. At first he'd been frustrated with himself. Going on dates with someone else was meant to make him think about Vince less, not more. He supposed it was the time they'd been spending together before Mark had finally given in and gone out with him.

It had been like old times. Vince was open and friendly, even kind. It had been a long time since he'd seen that side of his friend. It thawed a part of Howard he'd tried to keep cold and distant. Even though he knew Vince was only doing it to finally get rid of him, it had felt nice. At least he still cared enough to try and ensure Howard had someone new before Vince started the life he no doubt had planned without him.

It had left Howard confused and wanting more but not sure how to ask for it. He was with Mark, after all, and while he wasn't experienced at being in a relationship, he was sure he should want to spend more time with his partner than his best friend. If best friend was really what Vince was.

It would have surprised many other men to one day realise they had been desperately in love with their best friend for most of their thirty (at the time) years on Earth. It surprised Howard. But not as much as it might others.

Howard was constantly learning things about himself that he didn't know. Like the fact he didn't mind if it was a lovely young lady’s or a comely gentleman’s hand he was holding on a fine summer evening. Or that, actually, whiskey tasted like petrol and he much preferred a nice white wine. These discoveries came to him all at once. Not through deep personal reflection, but rather they appeared fully formed and irrefutable. One morning he'd woken and realised that he was completely and hopelessly in love.

That was some ten or so - the exact number is actually none of your business, sir - years ago now. Naturally he spent the first couple of years waiting patiently for the feeling to go away. It was obviously absurd. He'd known Vince since they were children, he couldn't possibly suddenly be in love with him. Not to mention that it was totally inappropriate. Vince was his friend and he felt like he had somehow betrayed that with his feelings. There was also the matter that Vince was not exactly the sort of person he had imagined spending his life with. They were so different. It wouldn't, couldn't, work.

But the feelings didn't go away. In fact, they grew and grew until it became clear that while Vince wasn't exactly who he imagined being with, he was everything that he wanted in a partner. He was caring and sweet. He was funny and good at music. He was attractive and stylish. And best of all, he looked at Howard like he might be worth something. Well, he had. But it seemed no sooner had he realised that Vince was what he wanted, everything fell apart. They stopped being able to click and the more Howard tried to fix it, the worse it got.

He sighed and looked over to where Vince was still sleeping soundly. But it had been better recently, Vince was like his old self and Howard had been so distracted by it that he couldn't quite give himself over to Mark. Which wasn't fair, he knew. He hadn't meant it to be like that. He'd genuinely thought they would work and that Mark might help him move on from Vince. Now it was clear that nothing would make him forget his feelings for his best friend.

Vince sighed and rolled over, as though disturbed by Howard's gaze. He blinked sleepily and then smiled. Howard tried to ignore the way his heart leapt at the sight.

“Breakfast?” he asked, his voice deeper than he meant it to be. Hopefully Vince would chalk that up to having just woken up.

Vince smiled brilliantly at him. “Thanks Howard!” he breathed. He sighed and stretched. “I thought you might be mad at me for last night,” he said after a moment where Howard couldn't quite rip his eyes away from the pale skin exposed by Vince’s stretch.

“What? Why?” he asked genuinely perplexed. “We talked about this last night. I'm fine.”

Vince shrugged and bit his thumb nail. “Sometimes you realise you're angry with me after you've thought about things.”

Howard frowned and tried to run that through his Vince translator. He tried to remember a time when he might have acted like that but couldn't come up with anything. “I do?” he asked eventually.

“Sometimes, like after that time with the Spirit of Jazz or when we got chucked out of that bar because Old Gregg was following me to find you.” Vince was gnawing on his thumb nail again and Howard had to take a moment to translate his words.

His stomach plummeted once he understood what Vince meant. He remembered both of those incidents well. He remembered the crushing sense of shame and frustration. The overwhelming knowledge that there was just nothing he could do without it going awfully, hideously wrong. No amount of Chinese burns were going to take that knowledge away. He'd felt raw and open and vulnerable. At times like those he found it hard to be around Vince. To be around anyone. But especially Vince who just seemed to see everything and would know how much he'd failed. So yes. He'd been angry and spiky. But it never occurred to him that Vince might think he was annoyed at him. It anything, he assumed that Vince would be disappointed with him. That he'd want to be with him a little less.

Vince was staring at him with big, worried eyes and for the second time in the space of 24 hours Howard wondered just how much he'd misunderstood about his friend. He didn't know how to deal with a Vince who was worried about his reactions, that actually cared what Howard thought about him.

He didn't know how to express any of those thoughts to Vince though. Things often seemed to move too fast for him to respond to. Hundreds of thoughts and feelings and ideas swirled confusingly in his head too tightly to articulate. By the time he could form words, people tended to have moved on. So he’d learned to stop trying. Sometimes words might burst forth when he was especially afraid or Vince and he were mid-crimp, but otherwise it was hard. He preferred to consider his words carefully and speak only when he was entirely sure.

He cleared his throat. “No, Vince,” he said slowly. “I'm not angry.” I'm completely in love with you, however. Would you mind terribly if I crawled into your bed with you and never left? The words formed behind his teeth, a teasing thought that he could never articulate. “Breakfast?” he said instead. “Eggy bread or pancakes?”

Vince narrowed his eyes as though he'd been given a particularly difficult maths problem. “Hmmm,” he said biting his lip. “Both?”

Howard didn't want to chuckle. It was a ridiculous answer. “Oh fine,” he heard himself say. “But you're washing up.”

He walked to the kitchen feeling a bit dazed. The flat seemed perfectly ordinary. Everything was how they'd left it the day before. But Howard felt transformed, like everything had tilted on its axis slightly and was offering him an entirely different perspective on what had once seemed familiar.

He set about making breakfast almost automatically, his hands seeming to do the work without any conscious thought, while his brain fizzed with information. He'd gone into the previous evening with a resigned feeling that perhaps things might not go perfectly but pleased that Vince would at least be there to soften the blow.

That feeling alone was unfamiliar over the last few months. It was more common now for him to be worried that his friend would make things worse. But since Mark had started at the shop Vince had been nothing but supportive and kind. Howard knew that was likely because there was finally a chance to offload him onto someone else, but he was willing to take what he could get.

So he hadn't been overly surprised to find himself in the middle of a brawl and being dumped by an irate boyfriend. That seemed to fit much more neatly into his expectations of the universe than being in a happy relationship, at a party thrown for him by his best friend. He and Vince had become separated as he'd stepped forward to try and ease the situation. Mark had first shouted his feelings across the room. But Howard had felt compelled to at least try and explain. He didn't want to leave Mark with the wrong impression.

“Listen,” he called when he was close enough, ducking a projectile sent their way. “You've got the wrong end of the stick, I would never-”

“I knew you and Vince were plotting something,” Mark had cut in, eyes narrowed and cold.

“We weren't! This is all a misunderstanding, if you would just listen,” Howard tried, desperate to show that he hadn't meant any of this. He would never hurt someone in such a manner.

“I knew he was in love with you,” Mark continued. “But you could have had the decency to say the feelings were returned rather than orchestrating something like this!”

“I don't…” Howard started, his mind snagging on the accusation. “Vince is certainly not in… I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous-”

“Just shut up, Howard,” Mark snapped. “I know you both pretend you can't see the other one staring but it's fucking annoying. I knew this thing between us was only a bit of fun, but for fuck’s sake! You could have just-” He'd taken a deep breath and balled his hands into fists. Howard had the distinct impression he ought to interrupt but he didn't have the faintest idea what to say. “Do you see what happens when you won't just talk to him?Just sort it out or you're going to keep hurting people. Each other included.” He took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up his nose. “You can send anything I've left at the shop to my house, but I don't want to speak to you again.” He'd shoved his way out of the bar after that. Howard had been about to do the same when he noticed Vince was cornered by three surprisingly burly hipsters and had gone to intervene.

It wasn't that he believed Mark. No, Mark was not the sharpest tool in the shed and he clearly didn't know Vince at all. But it was the idea of it. That someone else thought it might be possible for them to be in love. That, combined with the fact that Howard had done it now. He'd managed to woo someone and be his boyfriend. It wasn't much to have achieved by the age of - look, it really isn't your business, okay? - but it was something. It made him wonder. Maybe there was a way. Maybe he could find a way to at least express these feelings. He could try.

The thought was totally extraordinary. It had been a revelation as they'd run through the streets of Dalston. But he'd dismissed it as they'd giggled and chatted before bed. He couldn't bear the thought of rocking the balance between them.

But then Vince had seemed so concerned this morning, worried about Howard’s reaction, that it had made him wonder again. Perhaps Vince wasn't quite so ready for their friendship to be over. Perhaps there was a chance that Howard could make an amends for his behaviour over the last few months if nothing else. And it surely would be nothing else. But that thought didn't now make Howard want to give himself a full-body Chinese burn. He thought he could survive the rejection and just be happy in the knowledge that he'd tried. Plenty of poets and great men before him had done the same after all.

“Alright Howard?” Vince said, as he ambled out of their room wearing just his pajamas. Howard blinked rapidly trying to remember the last time he'd seen Vince leave their room without being fully dressed, complete with hair and makeup.

“Nearly ready,” Howard replied automatically. “The kettle’s on.”

Vince grinned and pottered about making tea in silence while Howard plated up the food.

“Will everything be alright with your friends?” he asked, as they ate.

Vince made a face and shrugged. “I dunno, they seemed like they were spoiling for a fight. Maybe they’ll think I did them a favour.”

“Be careful,” he said automatically. “You wouldn't want to fall in with the wrong crowd, you're not cut out for the gang life.”

“Who are you?” Vince asked, “Biggie Smalls?”

Howard tried to stop his face from betraying his amusement but wasn't sure he was successful when Vince grinned at him again. “I have a history,” he said instead. “I've seen some things in my time. Things that would shock you.”

“As if,” Vince gestured with some bread. “You were like ten when I met you. I know everything about you.”

“You don't know all of me,” he said, with a shake of his head. He was aware there was a balance to be had between them now. Too often lately they'd moved beyond genuine amusement and teasing into something darker and hurtful. He watched Vince carefully for signs that he was going too far. Not that he was ever very good at spotting them. Vince’s moods seemed to turn sour suddenly and with no rhyme or reason that Howard could discern.

“Like what?” Vince was smiling under the indignation, so he felt able to continue.

“During my time with the bin men there was a vicious rivalry with the street sweepers,” he began, leaning forward to catch Vince's eye.

“Ah, dangerous were they?” Vince asked with a little grin.

“The most dangerous of all the public servants, sir,” he confirmed. “They could sweep you right out of this world, if you crossed them. Now, when I was working there a young lad joined, Timmy, his name was. And I warned him about getting involved in the rivalry, I told him it was too dangerous.”

“Yeah?” Vince was leaning forward too, seemingly entranced with the story.

“But he wouldn't listen.” Howard shook his head ruefully. “It was a tragic tale.”

“Did he die?” Vince asked into the silence.

“Worse,” Howard confirmed, “moved to Croydon. Said the street cleaners wouldn't leave him alone; cleaning outside his house morning, noon and night. He couldn't sleep and the pavement became so shiny and clean he could barely get out of his house without falling over.”

“That's a shocking story alright,” Vince nodded. Then he pushed back from the table slowly. “Thanks for breakfast, Howard. That was genuis. But I've got to go get ready. I need to find out what happened after we left.”

He watched him go with a little smile before realising that he hadn't done the washing up.

He spent the rest of the day reorganising the stock room and pondering his options. The obvious solution was to just sit Vince down and confess his feelings. Explain that he'd been in love with him for many years and would he like to, perhaps, consider taking their relationship to the next level?

He shook his head and moved the unidentified and potentially dangerous box of goods further towards the back of the room. Vince deserved more than a simple expression of his feelings. Certainly more than Howard would be able to express. He also had a sneaking suspicion that he might not be believed. That perhaps he didn't deserve to be believed.

His father had taught him many things. A lot of them still haunted him while he was trying to get to sleep at night. But the one that came back to him over and over was his father’s insistence that a man earn the right to marry his chosen partner.

“No self-respecting woman will want you until you've achieved something, boy,” he'd said. “What have you ever done to make someone want you?”

Howard had ducked the swipe with the rolled-up newspaper but the words had hit him full-force. The truth was he hadn't done anything that set him apart. He'd always imagined that by the time he was thirty he would have any number of great deeds under his belt: adventurer, scholar, writer. But there was nothing. Nothing he had ever done made him worthy of Vince.

He'd tried at first, after he first realised his feelings, to better himself. To in some way become worthy. Going to the zoo. Trying to find the Egg of Mantumbi. Becoming a great writer. He'd hoped that they might show Vince that he was someone worth devoting his heart to. But none of it worked. It all just seemed to highlight how totally and completely he could fail at any field he tried his hand at. So he'd given up. There was no chance he would be good enough and so he stopped trying. He'd thought at first he'd just take some time and figure out who he was.

Only, lately he’d realised that he'd stopped trying entirely. Somehow in trying to find himself he'd lost Vince. He'd been a bad friend over the last few months, perhaps even years, and an absolutely terrible suitor. So, even if Vince would never feel the same, Howard owed him something.

He owed Vince a wooing. Not just any wooing, either. But one deserving of the history books. One that would be sung about for a thousand years. And Howard Moon was just the man to give it to him.

Except.

Romance was not something that came naturally to Howard Moon. Perhaps because it involved the expression of feelings. Real feelings, to a person and not written down safely where no one would see or judge them. Expressing his emotions was not something that he'd ever been in the position to practice growing up.

He remembered crying when he was young, perhaps around five years old. He couldn't remember about what. He thought Nanna Moon might have just died, but he wasn't sure.

But he did remember his father’s face, contorted with rage and embarrassment. “Stop that, Howard!” he snapped. “No one wants to be bothered with your snivelling, have some self respect, boy.”

Of course that had just made him cry harder. He could feel the tears and snot running down his face even as it heated with shame. “Sorry father,” he hiccuped.

When Howard continued to sniff and blink through the tears, his father gripped his arm roughly and pulled him towards him. “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about,” he hissed. He hadn't understood what he meant; there already was something to cry about. He'd been confused and so hadn't managed to duck the swipe with the newspaper that time. The sting of it against his head helped him stop crying, though. He concentrated hard on the ringing in his ears and the sting until he stopped.

“Now wash your face.” His father wasn't even looking at him anymore. “Make sure people can't see how pathetic you've been.”

Howard returned to the sting of physical pain when confronted with emotions he didn't know how to control many times over the years. It helped. Like somehow they were being leached from his body along with the pain. He'd given himself his first Chinese burn a couple of weeks later after he'd lost his favourite toy on a day trip. It stopped him from crying and he'd felt inexplicably proud of himself for it. It hadn't occurred to him that it might become an issue later in life.

He stared thoughtfully at the neat storeroom and wondered how to proceed. Perhaps some research might help, but that felt like cheating. Surely he could figure out how to make Vince happy on this own. They'd known each other for years and years. It couldn't be that hard to find some way to show his affections.

Perhaps he ought to start simply. Offer Vince a bit of pampering to show that he cared. A nice romantic dinner. He could make Vince his favourite. Of course, that wasn't all that unusual, so he'd need to think of something to make it special. Candles? No, the fire hazard alone was enough to put him off. Besides, he didn't want to come on too strong to begin with. Music might be better. Something gently romantic. Some Johnny Hartman or Red Garland, perhaps. If it was going particularly well, he might be able to dim the lights a bit.

He could even run him a bath when he got home to help him relax. That and the idea of Vince all warm and soft, without makeup and hair done, always made Howard feel impossibly fond and content.

Pleased with the plan, he headed out and bought some supplies and before waiting impatiently for Vince to return from wherever he'd been. He leapt up from the sofa and hurried to start the bath running when he heard the door open and close in the shop. He was just about back in the kitchen when Vince appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Hello,” he said, startled by his appearance, even though he'd heard him making his way up the stairs.

“Alright?” Vince greeted him with his usual a grin.

Howard felt suddenly awkward and unsure how to proceed. While nothing in theory had changed, his intent had and he wasn't sure how to reflect that outwardly. He made a bid to hide his uncomfortableness by leaning casually against the table. But it was much lower than he expected and he stumbled.

Wincing at himself he hurried to speak, hoping to cover his slip. “Good evening, Vince, pleasant day?” His voice sounded stilted and strange and a bit breathless. He tried to smile to cover the fumbled greeting with a smile but it apparently didn't work.

“What?” Vince asked, his eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

Howard felt his face fall and panic rise in his chest. “Nothing!” he said. “Just… Just practicing my jazzercise.” Vince still looked a bit suspicious and so he hurried on. “Did you eat while you were out?”

“Nah,” Vince shook his head. “I err,” he fidgeted and looked a bit uncomfortable. “I figure I need to get back on the diet. None of my old outfits seem to fit right at the moment.”

Howard’s stomach dropped. He hadn't thought about the possibility of Vince not wanting to eat with him. His instinct was to dismiss his concerns. Vince was not, by any indicator, overweight and he never had been. In fact, Howard preferred the way he looked before the GI diet kicked in, back at the zoo. He held a sort of wistful fondness for the way Vince dressed and looked then, when he was slightly fuller of frame. Although he knew Vince hated the way he used to look.

Seeing him in his old clothes the other day had been so jarring that he'd felt rattled for days. He missed those times desperately. When it seemed like nothing would be able to break the bond they shared. He missed the easy, open smile Vince would send his way. But mostly, he missed feeling like he had something to contribute to the relationship. At least at the zoo he knew he had something to pass along, some knowledge and authority to offer. Now he had nothing, apart from some mediocre cooking skills which were apparently now surplus to requirement.

He bit down hard on a comment about Vince being too caught up on the winds of fashion. He certainly didn't understand his need to adorn himself with clothes. Vince was beautiful. He didn't need anything to make him so and if anything Howard rather thought he was hiding himself behind the clothes. It made him sad and vaguely worried for him. But he didn't know how to express that. Besides, partners were meant to support each other. He didn't want to start his wooing by dismissing something Vince thought was important, no matter how much he wanted to.

He wanted to take the time to consider his next words but was acutely aware the silence had already gone on longer than was strictly normal. “Well,” he said, trying desperately to contribute without dismissing Vince’s wishes. “I did think the outfit you wore to the party the other day looked… different.”

Vince's head shot up. “What's that mean?”

Horror trickled up his spine, knowing instinctively this was potentially dangerous territory. “Well,” he said. “I… that is to say…”

“You think I look fat or something?” Vince's face had morphed into a mask of outrage.

“No!” Howard said quickly. “I just… it was a different look for you, is all.” Truth was, he wasn't entirely sure if the outfit was really all that different. It had been shiny but not as form-fitting as some of his other creations. Other than that he wasn't sure what to say about it

“I worked hard on that outfit!” Vince said, his voice rising and two pink dots of anger forming on his cheeks. “It's not like you'd know if it was fashionable anyway!” Then, when apparently that wasn't enough, he scowled and huffed. “What's this bloody music anyway?”

Howard snatched up the remote to the player and clicked off They Say it's Wonderful. “Nothing,” he said, feeling embarrassed.

Vince just glared at him. “You promised not to play any jazz when I was home. You know I'm allergic, I'll get a rash as well as apparently being fat with shit clothes.”

“You… I didn't…” Too many denials were clamouring to get out of his mouth at once.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Naboo shouted.

With a jolt Howard realised he was in the bathroom. “The bath!” Howard shouted and ran towards Naboo’s disembodied and furious voice. There was an angry shaman and a waterlogged floor waiting for him in the bathroom.

“What are you even running a bath for?” Vince asked, as he followed into the other room, still sounding angry and now a bit incredulous. “You hate baths.”

“I err,” he hedged. There was no power on Earth that was going to make him admit that he was running it for Vince. Not when he could still feel the anger coming off him in waves and Naboo was stood there glaring at him. “I thought… it might be good for my muscles. You know, after the jazzercise.”

“Howard you ball bag,” Naboo sighed. “Tidy this up, yeah? I got to get ready for a council meeting and I don't want to be late.”

“I'm going out,” Vince announced suddenly and left the room abruptly.

Howard sank bank against the sink, watching him go as the familiar feeling of disappointment mixed with embarrassment crept over him.

“You buy all that food in the fridge?” Naboo asked into the silence.

“I err-” he considered denying it but he wasn't sure what that would achieve. “Yes.”

There was another long silence. “It'll take time,” Naboo said eventually.

Howard looked up at him. He'd expected him to leave with Vince so he could get on with the clean up. He frowned, confused.

“You've been a massive bellend for years. One dinner isn't going to cut it.” Naboo’s expression hadn't changed, but Howard fancied that he could detect a mellowing in his tone.

“I’m fully aware of that,” he said, pushing down the desire to bluster about not knowing what he meant. He didn't dare look up to see his expression but he could feel Naboo staring at him hard.

“Let me know when this done,” Naboo said eventually.

Howard let out a slow breath and nodded. He felt sad and stupid. Probably nothing a good Chinese burn wouldn't fix but he wasn't sure he deserved even that.

“He cares what you think,” Naboo said. “Buggered if I know why. But he does.”

Howard’s head snapped up to stare at him but he was already gone.

****

Howard's natural reaction was to dismiss Naboo’s words outright. He spent 90% of his time higher than a kite and the other 10% literally not on Earth. But, Howard had always respected him anyway. Naboo was never usually wrong, not when it counted.

If he was right, he was trying to say that Howard needed to somehow tell Vince that he thought he was special. That when Howard looked at him, he saw something beautiful and precious. There was no way he could imagine doing so out loud. Not with Vince in the room. Perhaps even when he wasn't. The very idea made his stomach twist with fear.

Not because he feared the rejection, although that was part of it. No, he didn't trust himself to be able to say the words he really meant. Somehow when he tried he got worried that when Vince saw how special he was, he'd realise how pitiful Howard actually was in comparison, and his declarations turned into lectures designed to show that he at least had some merit. Or he'd become so tongue tied he'd say something dreadful, as so often happened with Mrs Gideon.

No. If he was going to tell Vince how he felt he'd need to be at a distance when it happened. He would need to write it down.

A letter was the most obvious form. But he didn't trust himself with that. It would be too direct, he didn't want to ask Vince to be his via correspondence. He just wanted to show him that he was respected and valued. He settled on a poem as being both romantic but oblique enough to satisfy his requirements.

Writing it was easier said than done, of course. He stared at a blank page for a long time. Days. It filled him with fear to even begin. He wasn't sure which part of Vince he wanted to express his admiration for. He was clear that this was not to be overtly romantic. He wanted to work up to that. This could be more of a ode to a friend, designed to show he cared but not, quite, how deeply.

Perhaps it would be easier to start with himself. If he could show Vince how Howard saw himself as a starting point, perhaps that might show how important Vince was to him.

He locked himself in the stockroom and listened to jazz for three days before he began to write. Since the brawl, the shop had been quiet. So quiet that they didn't need to replace Mark and Vince was finishing up running his stall. Once he was done with the last of his current stock, he'd be back to his normal job. In the meantime, he was able to run both the stall and the shop while Howard hid out back.

He emerged tired and drained, but triumphant. The poem was, naturally, a bit stilted and very inadequate. But it was a starting point. Vince might at least begin to see his worth in Howard’s eyes.

He pondered just handing it over but dismissed it. He couldn't bear to explain it. In fact giving it to him direct was almost unbearable. No. He'd be better off leaving it somewhere Vince would stumble across it. If he thought Howard didn't want him to see it would a) make him much more likely to read it and b) would seem more genuine. He didn't want Vince to think he wanted anything in return.

He ended up ‘accidently’ leaving it on Vince’s stall before heading out to lunch. He smiled to himself when he returned to find it gone and Vince studiously not looking at him.

Now he just needed to wait. He was confident Vince would ask about it eventually. It wasn't in his nature to keep secrets and certainly not about something like this.

Vince lasted two days. By which time Howard was ready to vibrate right out of his skin with wanting to know his thoughts. He didn't ask, partly because he suspected Vince was avoiding him. He didn't meet Howard’s eye and was never around at breakfast or for dinner. He let him be. There was no gain to be had in pushing him. If Vince needed time to come to terms with Howard’s feelings then it was only fair to give it to him.

Howard had just settled down in bed with a new book when the door burst open. He jumped and dropped Jazz Men and their Grisly Deaths on the floor with a thud.

“What's this?” Vince was standing in the bedroom doorway, his face unreadable. “Did you write this about me?”

Howard could see the poem, now slightly the worse for wear from where Vince had obviously been carrying it around. His heart leapt at the thought. Then he smiled, pleased that Vince had figured it out without him needing to explain. “Well, I wanted to express my-”

“Fractured and broken?” Vince said over him, looking down at the page. “Thanks a lot, Howard!”

“Oh,” Howard said with a shake of his head. “That bit isn't… It's meant to juxtapose the differences between-”

Vince glared at him. “Oh, yeah, I’ll bet.” He pulled the paper up to read from it again. “Like a pluviophile, I need no calm in your storm.” He said, pulling the paper down so he could glare, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. “What’s that meant to mean?” But he didn't pause for an answer before continuing. “I asked Leroy and he reckons that you're taking the piss.”

Howard was going to kill that little shit. “No. You just don't understand the form-”

“Yeah, I get it, Howard. I ain’t as smart as you,” Vince said, his face contorting into a scowl. “But I don't get why you have to rub it in all the time. Did you think this was funny? Haha! Vince don't understand poems so I can slag him off and he'll never know. Why do you always have to be such a tit?”

“I’m not-” he started, trying to get out of bed. “If you'd just listen for a moment-”

“Stuff it, Howard,” he said. He dropped the paper onto the floor and slammed back out of the room.

Howard sighed and got it of bed to pick up the poem, discarded on the floor. It was scrunched where Vince had been holding it tightly. He smoothed it out slowly. He considered throwing it away but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was still a piece of his heart, even if Vince had rejected it. Instead, he gently folded it up and placed it in his journal.

****

“That did not go well,” he said the next morning into the mirror. The tired and sad face of a failed jazz musician stared back at him balefully. “It's no good looking like that,” he said firmly. “You got yourself into this. You'll have to get out of it. You're going backwards. He now thinks you think he's a fat simpleton. Instead of…” He huffed and dropped his eyes to where his hands were gripping the sink tightly. “Instead of the best man you've ever known.” He mumbled the words into the basin without looking up. Because he was nothing if not a coward. “Come on,” he said, gritting his teeth. “You silly old fool. Think.”

He needed a new plan of attack. A new approach. He'd obviously been going about it all wrong. He'd been trying to woo Vince by doing what Howard would want. Romantic dinners and poetry were never going to work. They just seemed to be reinforcing Vince’s negative perceptions of their relationship. He needed to show that he'd changed. That he respected and loved Vince for who he is.

He met his own eyes in the mirror and grimaced. He was going to need to go out.

Howard Moon was not a man built for clubs. He was more suited to smokey pubs, frequented by a select and discerning few. Places where people weren't there to talk to each other. They were there to listen to music and contemplate their own existence. On their own.

But Vince loved clubs. Loved the press of people and too loud music. He seemed to thrive off of the attention of strangers. Howard hated that. Eyes on him were usually followed by judgement and embarrassment. But this wasn't about him. It was about showing Vince that he understood him and cared enough to make an effort.

He began by spending a few days researching potential venues. Ideally it should be somewhere new. That way he could show Vince that he’d really thought about it. He also had a vague notion that the openings of clubs were special events and that seemed more suitable as a grand gesture.

There seemed to be a never-ending stream of them. How on Earth was he meant to know which of them were ‘cool’. How did anyone know? Was there a committee that decided it in advance? Was there a mailing list? Vince seemed to instinctively know. He considered asking for advice but wasn't sure who would know. Leroy would certainly tell Vince immediately and ask Howard a lot of uncomfortable questions in the meantime. Naboo and Bollo were just as clueless as him and Lester was just a head and hadn't gotten out much even before that.

He sighed. He'd just have to pick one with a suitably gothic sounding name, to suit Vince’s current aesthetic, and hope for the best.

Then there came the small matter of asking Vince.

“I wonder if,” Howard started one evening after the shop was shut. But then promptly ground to a halt. That wasn't right, he was meant to be making himself sound fun. And young and virile. He opened his mouth to try again but Vince had already packed up and left.

“I was thinking,” he said, the next day, raising his voice to be sure he was heard this time. It was probably a bit too loud, truth be told, because Vince jumped and whipped around to glare at him. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“What's up with you?” he asked, frowning. “Why are you being weird?”

Howard opened his mouth to deny it but couldn't think of what to say. “Well,” he said. “I, just err… I feel bad about you missing your party the other week.” There, that was a good start.

Vince looked a bit shifty for a moment. Perhaps because this was their first civil conversation since the poem debacle. “It's fine,” he said finally.

“Well,” Howard said slowly, “I thought perhaps… maybe we could go to another club opening next week…” Vince was staring at him dumbly and it made Howard nervous, so he felt compelled to continue. “You know… together. Might be fun.”

“Might be fun?” Vince repeated, a frown etched across his forehead.

Howard’s resolve for the whole conversation was waning. He didn't know what to do in the face of disinterest from Vince. “Yeah,” he said, trying to sound lighthearted and casual. “I've been thinking about going out more and I thought you might enjoy it.”

“You're going out?” Vince said again.

“Yes!” he huffed, feeling self-conscious and irritable. Surely Vince didn't think him so devoid of personality that he would never want to enjoy himself. “Look, you don't have to come. I can invite someone else.” He mentally kicked himself the moment the words were out. What would he even do if Vince called his bluff? And why did he have to be such a grumpy arse at every opportunity? No wonder Vince was always out.

“No,” Vince said, slowly, like he was measuring his words. “I'll come with you if you want.”

He felt so relieved that he wanted to sag against the counter. Instead he forced a smile onto his face. “Good, it's next Friday. Will that be enough time to get an outfit ready?”

“Yeah, course,” Vince said, a little grin beginning to form. “What is it then? What sort of club?”

There were different sorts of clubs? Howard froze. “Well,” he said, desperate not to show his ignorance. “It's a surprise.”

“How am I meant to plan my outfit if I don't even know where we're going?”

It was probably a fair enough question, but Howard felt totally out of his depth. So he resorted to his fall back for when he felt inadequate: anger. “Does it matter that much? Surely you can cope with one night out without needing to make a production out of the whole thing!”

Vince's face looked briefly hurt before it morphed into its more normal (of late) expression of irritation. “Alright, Howard. Just because you've never made an effort to look good in your life.”

They glared at each other for a moment before Howard remembered again that this was meant to be a grand gesture of love and not a bickering contest. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I mean, you should plan a nice outfit. I just thought…” he improvised wildly, “that it might be nice if the evening was a surprise? But I can… help? I could help you pick something appropriate.”

Vince stilled and looked at him hard. “You want to help me pick an outfit and go to a club with me?”

Howard tried to stand tall and not fidget with anything. “Yes,” he said when he was sure his voice would be firm. “I would like to better understand what you're up to every night.”

“Yeah?” he asked, the smile beginning to grow into an actual grin.

Howard returned it, warmth filling his chest at the realisation that he'd put that expression on his face. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Absolutely.”

“Okay!” Vince said happily. “I can start picking some stuff out and we can chose something. Do you want me to pick something for you too?”

Howard pushed down firmly on the urge to say no. It wouldn't be the first time Vince had dressed him; he'd picked all the band’s outfits. “Yeah, sure, that would be great.” He sounded terribly formal, so he added. “Thank you, Vince.”

“No worries, Howard,” he said easily. “It's probably for the best, who knows what you'd pick for yourself otherwise.”

There was such a happy note to his teasing that Howard couldn't even pretend to be hurt by the jab. “Alright, little man,” he said. “Enough of that. You go start looking and I’ll just finish up here.”

“Cheers Howard!” he said before scampering out of the shop and up the stairs.

He watched him go fondly before heading at a brisk walk over to the little computer at the back of the shop to try and figure out what sort of club it actually was. Once he'd found the website he stared at it hard. There wasn't much information. But the pictures were of lots of people in leather and other outfits that made Howard deeply uncomfortable. Which, did seem to fit with what Vince was interest in. He smiled to himself, feeling a bit smug. It seemed perfect, it even sounded Halloween themed. Torture Garden sounded exactly like the sort of place that Vince would go. Somewhere with a vaguely spooky name but also a pleasant hint there might be flowers there. He smiled to himself and shut the computer down.

Vince was excited and affectionate for the rest of the week. Howard felt like he was floating. He'd actually done something right. Maybe this wasn't such a lost cause after all, maybe they might be able to build something together. Every night after Howard made dinner, Vince would talk him through their outfits. He'd steered Vince toward leather and latex which seemed to be in keeping with what everyone in the pictures was wearing. ‘Halloween themed’ seemed good enough for Vince. Then they'd watch telly together before heading to bed. It was the best week Howard could remember having in months.

So of course it culminated in utter disaster.

Howard squeezed into his outfit, which seemed to fall somewhere between a vampire and a biker. He felt ridiculous but he tried not to look in any mirrors and pretend that it was just a performance of the band. That made it easier. He fidgeted in the living room as he waited for Vince to be finished in the bathroom. He felt too hot and nervous to settle. But he was afraid to pull anything loose, so he sat as still as possible.

He stood up as the door opened, impatient to get on the with night. They were already late and he was keen to make sure they had lots of fun as early as possible so he could be safely back in bed at a reasonable time.

Vince was frozen in the doorway, staring at him and making him immediately uncomfortable. He looked around the room, trying to think of something to say. “You look good,” he said eventually, remembering his mishap when he'd wanted to make Vince dinner.

It was true. The outfit was very form-hugging but he was wearing a cape which gave it more of an air of mystery than some of his other creations. He'd gone with a dark red for his costume and black for Howard. The colours looked good together even if Howard was ruining the effect a bit by looking like a wayward teacher that had fallen in with the wrong crowd during his mid-life crisis.

His words seemed to jolt Vince out of his daze and he cleared his throat. “Thanks Howard.” He shifted, the fabric squeaking a bit. “Yours looks good too.”

The compliment was appreciated, even if it was misplaced and done out of pity. “Right,” he said. “We better get going.”

He started to suspect that things weren't quite right when they reached the queue. Everyone around them was in very revealing costumes and there was something about the way they were looking around them that was almost… assessing and predatory. Not in the normal way of Howard's previous (very limited) experience of clubs. There seemed to be a weird tension in the air.

“Are, err..?” he asked eventually, looking around at the other club-goers. “Are leashes really in this season?”

Vince shifted next to him and looked uncomfortable. “No,” he squeaked.

Howard wondered what he was thinking but didn’t dare ask. He just wanted to get inside. He'd promised himself that he would have two drinks and then dance. Vince had always been on at him to try it with him but he'd resisted, certain they would look ridiculous together. That everyone would see how out of Howard's league Vince really was. Or worse, Vince would.

They stopped dead when they entered the club. It was dark, but they could make out shapes of people undulating to the music. There was some sort of show taking place on the stage. Howard watched it for a few moments before feeling his face heat. Was that normal? He tried to catch Vince’s expression, but it was too dark to make it out.

“Shall we, err,” he said abruptly. “Shall we get a drink?”

“Howard,” Vince said, frowning. “What is this place?”

Shame and embarrassment was welling up inside of him. But he shoved them down. Surely he could salvage this. “Drink!” he said and strode off, Vince trailing along behind him.

Only, the club was dark and maze-like in its set-up. They stumbled around for awhile until they found themselves in an even darker room. Howard stared around, waiting for his eyes to become accustomed. Then he heard some very unmistakeable sounds and froze, his whole body locking up. Vince's hand came up to grab Howard’s arm painfully.

Someone near them looked up from where they had been… Howard’s brain shorted out momentarily. “Alright boys?” they said with a slow wink. “Wanna get involved?”

“No, sir,” he managed before turning and fleeing the room.

He didn't stop until he was out of the club and several streets away. Vince was a silent figure behind him.

“What was that, Howard?” he said finally, his tone unreadable.

“I didn't know,” he said, trying to come up with an excuse that didn't make him sound either incompetent or ridiculously naive. “I thought you might like-”

“You think this is what I get up to at nights?” His face had gone from blank to confused straight to indignant. “Or is this just another way to make fun of me?”

Howard floundered, panic making hundreds of thoughts skit through his mind but he was unable to grasp any of them.

“I don't believe it!” Vince shouted. For a horrifying moment it looked like he might cry, before his face became a mask of anger. “Why do I even… you're always like this. I think you're going to be nice but you actually just want to show how much better you are than me!”

“That's no-” he tried, feeling desperate and scared at the genuine fury on his friend's face.

“No!” Vince shouted over him. “I’ve had it. I can't believe you'd do this, when I thought-” he cut himself and gritted his teeth. “You're a… a total prick! Don't talk to me again!”

Howard watched him storm away, his heels clicking on the street and hung his head.


	4. Chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was a bloody fetish club - Howard's way of saying he thinks I’m a man whore or something.”
> 
> “You sure he's smart enough for that?” Naboo asked.
> 
> “Yes!” Vince snapped. “He's been a prick since that stupid party. I thought he wasn't mad about it but he's obviously punishing me.”
> 
> Naboo shrugged. “If you say so,” he said and took a puff from the bong before handing it to Bollo. “But he ain't been the one picking fights lately.”
> 
> “That's not true,” he said. “He wrote that nasty poem about me!”
> 
> Bollo grunted. “Howard a ballbag who write terrible poetry,” he said. “But that poem not mean bad things about precious Vince.”

Vince stormed all the way home. His feet were killing him but he didn't stop. His mind with still whirring and he felt hot and furious. Had Howard really thought Vince was into that stuff? He either didn't know him at all or he was just taking the piss because apparently Vince was a slut who might enjoy sex clubs? He felt shame heat his cheeks and make his eyes fill. Sure, he'd had a few partners over the years. But not that many. Truth was, a lot of the time he got bored after they got past the snogging and he never went through with the actual sex.

But apparently Howard thought he was out doing crazy sex acts every night. He balled his hands into fists and tried not to cry. No wonder Howard didn't want anything to do with him if that's what he really thought. It was too much on top of the other things he'd done over the last few weeks. He couldn't remember feeling quite so angry with anyone. He didn't know what to do with it so he kept on walking.

He’d really thought that after Mark maybe him and Howard might be able to go back to normal. He'd been so happy when Howard had assured him he really wasn't angry about the party, that he hadn't even really cared when he'd been stripped of his Prince of Camden title for getting a lot of people beaten up with vegan foods. It hadn't seemed so important when he thought Howard was waiting at home for him.

But he hadn't been. Well, other than to turn around and insult his favourite outfit and call him fat. As though he didn't know Vince struggled with his weight. He'd been so hurt and embarrassed that he’d gone straight to Leroy’s and cried. He'd let him assume it was about the title. It was easier than admitting how stupid he'd been. Then they'd come up with a plan to get Vince’s title back. It took his mind of Howard for a little while.

Until the poem. He'd felt guilty for reading it at first, but given all the references to black he'd known it was about him immediately and so it didn't seem so bad to read it. But the more he read, the more it just seemed to confirm all of Vince’s worst fears about how Howard saw him. There they all were in black and white. Broken. Empty. A chaotic storm that people might think was pretty from afar but was destructive to anyone that got close.

He should have known that the club was going to end up like this. Besides, he'd seemed genuine in his request and he had to admit that Howard had seemed a bit upset that Vince had found the poem. And ultimately, Vince was weak. He wanted to spend time with Howard. He wanted Howard to want to go to clubs with him. Because he was an idiot who couldn't stop loving someone that clearly didn't even like him, let alone return his feelings.

He felt old and exhausted by the time he climbed the stairs to the flat. He didn't even have the energy to cry. Naboo was sitting on the sofa when he reached the living room. At least he assumed he was, the cloud of smoke was too thick to be entirely sure.

“Alright Naboo?” he said anyway.

“Why you back?” Naboo asked. “You're meant to be out on your date aren't you?”

He felt an uncharacteristic stab of anger at the shaman. “It weren't a bloody date,” he huffed. “It were just a way for Howard to make fun of me. Again.”

The smoke seemed to clear and Naboo appeared to give him a long stare. “You sure about that?” he asked after a moment.

Vince wanted to throw things. “Yes!” he said. “It was a bloody fetish club - Howard's way of saying he thinks I’m a man whore or something.”

“You sure he's smart enough for that?” Naboo asked.

“Yes!” Vince snapped. “He's been a prick since that stupid party. I thought he wasn't mad about it but he's obviously punishing me.”

Naboo shrugged. “If you say so,” he said and took a puff from the bong before handing it to Bollo. “But he ain't been the one picking fights lately.”

“That's not true,” he said. “He wrote that nasty poem about me!”

Bollo grunted. “Howard a ballbag who write terrible poetry,” he said. “But that poem not mean bad things about precious Vince.”

“Leroy said-” he tired, starting to feel a bit sick, and not just from the fumes.

“Leroy’s an idiot,” Naboo said. “He's never even read a poem before.”

That was… true. And to be fair, he hadn't read this one either, he'd just agreed with Vince’s assessment.

“I don't-” Vince started. “I don't understand.”

Naboo rolled his eyes. “I'm not getting involved in human affairs, it is well disgusting,” he snapped. “But you're killing my buzz. Just talk to him, will you? And then leave me alone and stop moping around the flat, it's annoying.”

Vince glared but couldn't think of anything to actually say, so he stomped to his room. He was tempted to slam the door but suspected he'd look petulant. He flopped down onto the bed instead and stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what Naboo was getting at.

He was clearly off his tits, but Vince had learned to trust him over the years. He'd only had Vince's best interests at heart, as far as he could tell. If Howard really hadn't been trying to be mean to him, then what, exactly, was he trying to achieve? Vince tried to turn the options over in his mind but it was too confusing.

He thought carefully about the things that had happened over the last few weeks. He'd got back from being stripped of his title and… Howard had been hovering in the kitchen with weird music playing and a bath running. It had also smelt a bit like he might have been cooking. It was possible that Lester was coming round. Howard was always a bit overly formal when he hosted someone, always overdoing everything and making them uncomfortable - another hang up from his father. Could Howard have been cooking for him? But, why?

Then there was a poem, he tried to picture Howard's face when he'd confronted him. He'd looked… horrified. At the time he'd assumed that it was because he'd found the poem at all. But what if it was more than that? What if he really had misunderstood it? He wished he could remember what it said.

Then there was tonight. Howard had seemed mortified. That could have been because he was seeing what he assumed Vince got up to first hand… or it could have been embarrassment at having messed up.

He felt confused and anxious as he turned the thoughts around and around his brain. If all of that was true and Howard had just been trying to be nice then… what did that mean? Why was he doing that? Vince's heart was beating hard in his chest. It was probably just his way of trying to get their friendship back on course. Surely any romantic overtones were completely accidental. But even if it was just friendship, Vince felt a smile start to spread across his face.

But then it flickered and went out. He could still be wrong. Naboo didn't know everything and he'd made enough of a fool of himself with how he'd reacted to Mark without getting his hopes up. If he wasn't wrong though… He grimaced. He was going to have to apologise. But if he was wrong there was no way Howard deserved anything but a punch to the nuts.

He huffed and sat up. This wasn't getting him anywhere. He walked back into the living room. “Are you saying that Howard’s been trying to be nice to me but I just keep misunderstanding and shouting at him?”

Naboo gave him a long stare. Vince fidgeted and tried to stare back. But Naboo wasn't human and there was no way he could win a staring competition against him; he wasn’t even entirely sure Naboo needed to blink.

“I ain't apologising if actually he really has just been a tit,” Vince said when he couldn't bear it anymore.

Naboo stared at him some more.

“Fine! I guess I'll just try and see what he does next. If he really is trying to be nice, then I'll apologise but if not…” He stopped, unable to think of anything bad enough he could do.

Naboo continued to stare at him.

“Alright,” he huffed. “I get it, you don't want to get involved with the humans.”

Naboo didn't stir and so he went back to his room.

He wasn't entirely sure if that was a lesson or Naboo was just too stoned to move. But either way, his mind was made up. He'd let Howard carry on with whatever his plan was. And this time he wouldn't automatically assume he was just being an arse.

He thought he should probably stay up and wait for Howard to come home but he was so tired from everything that had happened that he was asleep before he even realised it was about to happen.

\----

Vince woke with a start and looked over to Howard's bed. It was empty but he could hear noises from the kitchen. He made his way out of their bedroom slowly, feeling a bit apprehensive. He knew that, under normal circumstances, he would have stayed in bed for as long as possible and then probably left the house quickly so he didn't have to talk to Howard. But, given his resolution, he thought he ought to test the waters first.

Howard appeared to be making breakfast when he got out to the kitchen. “Morning,” he said, when Howard didn't seem to notice him enter.

Howard yelped and dropped the pan he was holding, making it clatter to the floor. He turned to look over his shoulder at Vince. “You're… ah… up.”

Vince nodded and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Howard was looking at him, eyes as wide as they could get. Vince's stomach seemed to be a solid ball of anxiety. He wasn't sure how to start the conversation. Part of him was still convinced Howard was playing some sort of prank on him. But he desperately didn't want that to be true. “What you doing?” he asked in the end.

“I thought…” Howard gestured with the frying pan, “Breakfast?”

Vince stared at him, trying to detect some malice or amusement in his face. But he couldn't. “Yeah, okay, thanks.”

Howard visibly relaxed and Vince followed suit. He sat down slowly at the table and watched as Howard began to make breakfast. They didn't speak, which usually Vince hated, but he was grateful this time. He wanted to be able to consider his next words carefully. If Howard really had been trying to be nice then he really deserved an apology and a gesture from Vince. He twisted his hands in his lap; it was like the cloak all over again. He hated the idea that he'd not taken the opportunity to fully appreciate Howard being nice to him. But at the same time he felt completely at sea. He couldn't understand why Howard would suddenly decide to do it and how he should respond without somehow ruining it by accident.

He wasn't any closer to figuring it out by the time Howard joined him at the table. The silence between them was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He fidgeted in his seat. “Last night was mental!” he burst out. “Your face when you saw what that bloke was doing was so funny.”

Howard froze in his seat, his eyes darting to Vince and then away. “Well,” he said, “I was just impressed by his dexterity.”

Vince snorted a laugh and after a moment Howard joined him. They laughed for a long time and Vince was left grinning madly when they were done. The tension gone, he reached across and took a plate. “Thanks Howard,” he said. “And thanks for taking me to a club… even if it wasn't… you know.”

Howard smiled so brilliantly at him that Vince's toes curled.

\-----

His and Leroy’s plan to get his title back was in full swing. People were being a bit harder to warm up than he hoped, but he figured he'd get there with a little more effort. It meant he was out a lot more than he had been, though. He could feel how tired he was, but it seemed a small price to pay to be back on top. He opened the door to the shop and checked his watch. Not too bad, it was only two. He could get a couple of hours in on his new outfit and still have some sleep before he needed to be at the shop. Maybe Howard would open up for him.

He was so busy calculating how many hours sleep he'd have that he didn't notice the figure sitting on the sofa. He jumped when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. “Howard!” he hissed, clutching his chest.

“Sorry,” Howard said, standing up and coming toward him as though checking he was alright. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

Vince took a breath and waved him off. “It's fine, I just didn't see you there.” He eyed him for a moment. “What are you even doing up? It's late.”

Howard shrugged. “Nothing, just got caught up in my book,” he gestured to the sofa where a thick leather book lay abandoned. “Good night?”

“Yeah,” Vince said automatically. “It was great. There were loads of people there and there was this massive rave. It was mental.”

Howard nodded. “Tea before you head to bed?”

Vince grinned. “Thanks Howard,” he said gratefully. “I've got to work on this new outfit so I could use the caffeine.”

“You're not going to bed?” Howard asked, looking almost concerned.

“Nah,” Vince said and made sure to keep his smile in place. “I'm not tired; too pumped up after the night.”

Howard nodded. “Okay, I'll pop the kettle on. I'm pretty pumped too,” he added and raised his eyebrows. “My book is getting pretty exciting.”

Vince knew there was a time not so long he'd have found that comment annoying. He'd have seen a jab hidden in the words about his own lack of interest in reading. But, now, he could see the genuine pleasure Howard had for the topic but also the little grin on his face. Almost bashful, it showed he was teasing himself too. Vince grinned. “Got to a particularly good reference note did you?” he asked.

Howard beamed at him. “The referencing system is fascinating in fact,” he said as he turned to the kettle. “But I should probably stop for the night.”

“Yeah, don't want to give yourself a heart attack from all the excitement.” Vince felt a familiar warm glow at being able to tease Howard without upsetting him and it ending in a fight.

“Quite.” He paused, hand stilling on the mugs. “Although, if you're not tired, perhaps we could watch some TV? Help settle me before bed.”

Vince's heart leapt. There was nothing better than late night TV watching with Howard. He thought briefly of all the work he needed to do, but dismissed it. He could stand a few hours less sleep to spend time with Howard. “Okay,” he said, careful to keep his voice neutral and not breathy and excited like it wanted to be. “But just a little bit because I've got to work on my outfit for next week.”

He'd found some old re-runs of a sitcom by the time Howard joined him on the sofa. They didn't speak as the TV played, but it was a nice silence. Vince found himself slouching down further and further, angling his body toward Howard. He managed to manoeuvre himself so they were pressed together down one side. He sighed happily and felt the tension that had been bunched across his shoulders start to slowly ebb.

They watched two episodes before Vince’s eyes began to droop. “I'm tired,” he muttered, closing his eyes. The world seemed to spin when they were shut so he opened them again.

“You should sleep,” Howard said, his voice soft.

Vince shook his head. “I can't, I’ve got to do some changes to do for my outfit or it won't be ready.” He braced himself for a lecture on focusing on something so trivial. But it didn't come. Instead, Howard nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay,” he said slowly. There was a beat of silence. “Should… Is there..?”

Vince opened an eye to look at him. “What?”

“Would you like some help?” Vince swallowed his urge to point out that Howard was rubbish with this sort of thing. He looked so nervous and unsure that Vince’s heart hurt. He genuinely seemed to want to help and he wasn't about to turn that down. “Yeah, thanks, Howard, that’d be genius.”

Howard smiled at him, seeming pleased. “Shall I put the kettle on?”

“Yeah, okay,” Vince hauled himself to his feet and went to get his supplies and lay them out on the kitchen table.

Howard joined him a little while later with two mugs of tea and a slice of malt loaf which made Vince’s chest swell with affection. There wasn't really that much for Howard to do, but he seemed content to watch Vince work and explain what he was doing. It made the work seem less daunting, having Howard there.

They'd fallen into a companionable silence for a few minutes when Howard next spoke. “Why do you spend so much time on all of this?” Normally Vince would have taken a question like that to be an attack and he'd have responded with a jab at Howard's fashion sense or general lack of cool. But now he was looking for it, he could hear the genuine question in Howard’s voice. It was a request for information rather than a statement about the lack of worth of what he was doing.

“I like clothes and looking good,” he said.

“Yeah,” Howard said. “But this is so much work. When do you sleep?”

Vince grinned at him. “I sleep when it's done, I learned I don't need that much.”

“But…” Howard seemed like he was picking his words very carefully. “Aren't you tired? Doesn't it all get a bit much?”

Vince paused for a moment, thinking about the words. “Sometimes,” he said, feeling like he was confessing something awful. “Not always, but when it feels like I have to do it, it isn't so fun.”

“Then why do it?” Howard's voice was soft and calm and it made him feel relaxed.

He answered without really thinking about it. “People forget me otherwise,” he said with a shrug. “I gotta keep things fresh and keep making a splash.”

“Who on Earth could forget you?” Howard said, and he sounded so genuinely perplexed that Vince turned to look at him. His brow was creased in apparent confusion, his eyes narrowed so small Vince could barely see them.

Vince shrugged, feeling a bit surprised and unsure about his reaction. Surely it was obvious. “Everyone,” he said. Then he felt stupid so he hurried on. “I mean, they used to til I learned how to make a proper effort.”

Howard was staring at him, the confusion still etched across his face. It was making Vince feel suddenly exposed. He’d thought this was obvious.

“Do you mean…” Howard started and then stopped. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Howard,” he said, feeling a bit reproachful. “You know what it were like when I was little. Like, Mum and Dad and teachers and that. I were too little and sad sometimes and they just forgot I was there. Not you, I guess, but everyone else.”

There was a long silence after he was finished. He didn't want to look up at Howard. He bunched the material in his hands firmly instead.

“Vince,” Howard said. “Your mum was sick and then your dad-”

“I know, Howard,” he broke in quickly. He was there, he remembered it fine. “They just wanted a kid that was happy and fun. But, I didn't know how to do that then so…” He shrugged a shoulder.

“They weren't…” Howard started slowly and then stopped. “It wasn't your fault.”

Vince frowned and looked up at him. He looked sad and Vince was confused for a moment. “I know that,” he said, shrugging again. He felt small and visible in a way that he never had before, not even in his most elaborate outfits. He hunched over, suddenly not wanting to be seen, not even by Howard - was this how Howard felt all the time?

“Your dad wasn't well either and they just… They should have been there for you.” Howard seemed almost angry which was confusing.

Vince shrugged and forced a smile onto his face. “It's fine, I had you and besides no one likes people who are sad all the time. I don't wanna be like my Dad was and…” he ran out of words again.

Howard stared at him for a long time. “It's okay to be sad sometimes, though,” he said slowly. “That's not the same was with your dad.” He was staring at Vince like he'd never seen him before. “You know,” he continued earnestly, “it's okay to not want to do things just because people want you to. People who really care about you don't expect that.”

Vince's fingers gripped the material tightly again. He felt hot and angry. He wanted to shout or storm from the room. Howard didn't know what he was talking about. It was a stupid thing to say. Vince knew all of that. It's what people said but it wasn't what they meant. Not when it came to him. They never had. Even Howard was happier when Vince was happy and doing what Howard wanted. That was clear from what happened with Mark and at the zoo. He didn't know how to say any of that. He hated the idea of the words being out there, and they seemed almost trapped in his chest anyway. Howard would be angry at him for it, for one thing, and he'd also never told anyone that was how he felt before. He managed a shrug.

“Vince,” Howard said, his voice becoming almost agitated. “Vince, I want you to tell me if you're not happy. Even if…” he swallowed hard, Vince looked up at him, looking for traces of deception in his face. He couldn't see any, but maybe he just didn't know what to look for. He watched Howard’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and struggled to come up with the words. “Even if it's because of me,” he said eventually.

“You don't make me unhappy, Howard, you're my best mate.” He looked at the material in his hands unseeingly for a moment before forcing himself to continue working.

Howard didn't speak for so long that he didn't think he was going to. Then, he said, “That's not how it works.” Vince looked at him. “I might not mean to, but you can tell me. I won't…” he half smiled, “I'll try not to get mad. But whatever happens, it won't… I'll always be your friend.”

Vince looked away and back at his hands. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to shrug off the whole conversation and make a joke. But Howard was looking at him so sincerely that he didn't feel like he could. “I know that,” he lied, not able to make eye contact.

Howard was silent for a long time. “Why don't you get some sleep?” he said. “I can cover the shop tomorrow afternoon and you can work on this then.”

Vince turned his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It's not like it'll be busy.”

Relief flooded his chest and he gratefully began packing away. “Cheers, Howard,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Any time, little man,” he said softly. They smiled at each other for a long moment before Vince forced himself to go to bed.

He felt warm and happy as he drifted to sleep, Howard's gentle smile behind his closed eyes.

\-----

The outfit was a huge success. It was generally agreed that Vince was well on his way to being named Prince of Camden again at the next meeting. The next step was to come up with the next look and accompanying outfit. So far he was coming up blank but something would come to him eventually. He just needed to work up some more options as the first six hadn't really done the job.

It had been a fun night, as least, he thought as he climbed the stairs to the flat. The light was on and he frowned. Howard hadn't been up the last few times he'd got back, despite him hoping that he might be.

Howard was sat at the table, but he jumped to his feet and came toward Vince quickly when he got to the top of the stairs. “Vince!” He said, “you're home early.”

Vince frowned more deeply. “It's three.” He pointed to the clock above their heads to illustrate his point. He squinted, trying to make out whatever Howard was now hiding behind his back. “What's that?” Vince asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Howard looked especially shifty as he moved whatever it was further behind his back. “Nothing,” he obviously lied. “How was your night?”

“What's behind your back?” Vince asked again, beginning to get a strange, worried feeling in the pit of his stomach. Howard hiding things only ever ended badly.

It looked for a moment like Howard might continue to deny that he had anything. But then he sighed heavily and slowly moved his arms to reveal a bundle of material.

“What's that?” Vince asked again, confusion replacing his suspicion.

Howard blushed and shifted a bit. “It's just…” He gestured for a moment. “It's this.” He held out a shirt, or what might be a shirt; the arms were odd lengths and there was no collar.

“Are you…” Vince frowned. “Are you making clothes?”

Howard frowned, looking bashful. “I just thought I’d learn.”

Panic gripped Vince for a moment. Was Howard planning on getting rid of him? Did he think Vince had lost his touch or something. “Why?”

“I thought…” Howard looked desperate to get away for a moment but then he swallowed and squared his jaw, like he was preparing for battle. “I thought if I could help… you know, with your costumes, you might be able to get earlier nights and-”

He didn't get to finish his sentence because Vince had thrown his arms around his neck. “Oh Howard!” he whispered through a huge smile.

Howard didn't react to the onslaught, his arms hanging limply by his side. Vince suddenly realised he'd hugged him without permission and froze. But Howard wasn't pushing him away. So he chanced a little squeeze before pulling back.

Howard offered him a small smile, before it disappeared, leaving them staring intently at each other. Vince was suddenly aware of how closely tucked together they were. He could feel Howard's solid, warm presence down his whole body. He waited for Howard to break eye contact and say something awkward. But he didn't. He was looking intently at Vince, something determined in his expression.

Howard was going to kiss him.

The realisation hit him suddenly. It dropped fully formed into his mind with a certainty that startled him. Panic rose in his chest. It was too much.

He leapt back. “Thanks Howard!” he said quickly. “I'm tired, so I'm gonna head to bed. See you in the morning.”

He didn't dare look back and walked swiftly into their bedroom and shut the door firmly behind him. He got ready for bed and clambered in as fast as he could, terrified that Howard might follow him and want to talk. He pulled the covers up until they were nearly covering his head.

When the door to the bedroom remained closed he let out a slow breath. He felt wobbly and a bit like he might cry. Howard was going to kiss him. He was sure of it. He couldn't even explain why, but he knew it.

Which was what he'd been waiting for since he was a teenager. So why did he feel like he wasn't ready? He should be out there right now snogging Howard's face off. But he couldn't. What if Howard just wanted to kiss him once and then broke up with him again, like at the party? That had been embarrassing and painful. But, now, when they were back to being real best friends Vince didn't think he could bear it. He needed to know what Howard meant by wanting to kiss him.

But, he supposed, if everything Howard had been doing lately was leading up to this… That didn't seem like the sort of thing someone did just for a quick snog on a sofa. He had a sneaking suspicion that Howard had been trying to woo him. He giggled at the thought and clapped his hand over his mouth. But he couldn't suppress his smile. The thought was ridiculous. But he knew he was right.

Then he felt immediately guilty. Not only had he shouted at Howard the first few times he'd tried to do something nice, he had now just ruined their first potential kiss. He probably owed him an apology before the next time. Maybe he ought to try some wooing of his own. He grinned again at the thought.

Yeah.

Two could play at that game. Vince had been working on wooing Howard for over a decade. He wasn't going to be outdone by any johnny come lately. Even if that was Howard himself. He smirked to himself and turned over. First thing in the morning he was going to give Howard the wooing of a lifetime. He wasn't going to know what had hit him.

****

Howard stared at the closed bedroom door and sighed. He'd been so close. Vince had been so close. He was going to kiss him. It had been the perfect time. Well, maybe more accurately, it had been the first good time. The first time he'd done something that hadn't ended in a fight or a confusing and vaguely upsetting conversation. Maybe that wasn't the same thing as the perfect time.

He'd only just begun to realise how little he really knew about Vince. He'd thought he'd understood him, well, as much as anyone could understand him. But after their conversation a few nights ago, he wasn't so sure. The idea that Vince was hiding his feelings was a distressing. He'd felt guilty and ashamed afterwards. How had he'd never seen it? Because now he looked back, it was so clear. He could see Vince grinning up at Howard after something bad had happened. Even at his mum’s funeral he'd only cried once, when it was just the two of them in Vince's room, after it was over. Howard hadn't known what to do. He'd hugged his friend and they'd collapsed onto the floor and stayed there for hours. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he told Vince stupid stories and when he ran out of those he made up little songs. Vince hadn't reacted but when Howard had tried to get up, he'd clung to him until he lay back down.

After that Vince had never really mentioned it again. That wasn't normal, was it? And how many other times had Vince just pretended not to feel upset or hurt? How many times had Howard hurt him and never known? The thought made him queasy.

He'd always thought of himself as a sensitive modern man. He thought he understood the human condition. But now he was wondering if he understood just his own. And maybe even that not very well. He'd made a decision that night, lying in bed unable to sleep, to try and be more sensitive. Maybe that was the best way to woo Vince. He could make him meals and tidy the flat. But also he could be there for him. He could take more of an interest in what he was doing and help him out.

He'd always assumed that Vince didn't want that. But now he knew for sure that even if he did, he wouldn't ask. So it was up to Howard to offer it freely. Like a true partner and - if he were honest - an actual friend would do.

He'd been right for once, Vince's expression when he saw what Howard was working on, was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. It made his chest tight.

He needed to find a way to make Vince smile like that again. He thought it over as he made his way to bed, thinking of ways he could show Vince his worth and how dearly Howard valued him. It came to him slowly, over the course of a sleepless night.

He got up early and managed to catch Naboo before he went to bed. He then waited for Vince to arrive at the shop before he made his excuses and went to the stockroom. He paused once inside and looked around, assessing for a moment, before sighing and getting to work.

It took longer than he thought it would. He kept having to wait for Vince to be out to bring things downstairs and the organising turned into a clear out. He didn't emerge until late afternoon a few days later. Vince jumped as he entered the shop and scrambled to turn off the record player.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Vince looked alarmed for a moment. “Nothing!” he said.

“What, nothing at all?” Howard said, starting to feel a bit nervous. He didn't like it when Vince hid things from him. It made his stomach churn uncomfortably. “Why'd you turn off the music?”

It looked like Vince would deny even that for a moment but then he deflated. “I was just…” he started and shrugged. “I was just listening to some music.”

“What music?” he asked. It wasn't like Vince to be embarrassed by his music tastes.

“Just, you know…. jazz,” he mumbled.

Howard’s frown deepened. “Jazz?” he asked. “What about your allergy?”

“Yeah, just the less terrible stuff.” He shuffled his feet.

“Why?” Howard said, he was getting the impression he was missing something, but he couldn't figure out what.

“Well,” he said. “You always said I couldn't be a proper musician until I mastered jazz, so I thought…”

Howard cringed. Had he really said that? It might well be true but it sounded awful repeated back to him. It sounded, he realised with sinking feeling, like his father. “You don't…” he started, his hand came to rest lightly against the bare skin of his other forearm. “You're a good musician, Vince. You're a front man, you don't need all the technical side of jazz to be good at that.”

Vince frowned, apparently confused about the sudden reversal of a position Howard had maintained since they were children. Howard's hand curled around his arm, ready to twist, just gently. Just to feel the pull of it.

“I'm not as good as you, though,” he said. “You're amazing and you listen to jazz, so…”

He felt embarrassed by the compliment. He didn't need Vince to humour him, he knew his limitations just fine. He twisted the skin a little harder. “You're a good musician. People like listening to you. That's what matters.”

Vince shifted, looking a bit put out. “No, it matters that you're talented and can write songs and know how to play instruments and can fit all the pieces together. You're a brilliant musician, Howard.”

“Vince, you really don't need to…” he said, feeling agitated. He couldn't twist the skin hard enough with Vince’s eyes fixed on him and he felt exposed and embarrassed. He hadn't realised how much he'd worn Vince down over the years. He took a deep breath. “You don't need to listen to jazz to be a good musician.”

Vince huffed in apparent irritation. “I know that, Howard!” he said. “But just, take the compliment, you're a great musician!”

“You take the compliment!” he shot back. “I'm aware of my own accomplishments!”

“You're being stubborn!” Vince snapped. “You've been on at me for years to listen to jazz and now you don't want me to!”

“Of course I want you to!” he shouted. “But I want you to want to! Not because I've bullied you into it just like my-” He managed to cut himself off at the last moment. But it was too late, Vince was staring at him, his face a mask of surprise which slowly turned into something softer. A bit like pity.

“You ain’t,” he said. “You ain’t bullying me. I do want to listen to it. And…” he shifted. “You was right. It did scare me, but I asked Lester and he gave me some suggestions-”

“You spoke to Lester?” Howard felt like he was getting whiplash from this conversation.

“Yeah,” Vince said and then apparently noticed the horror creeping over his face because he added, “I didn't go over! I just text him and he sent me some records.” He shrugged again. “They're alright.”

Howard almost smiled. “Yeah?”

Vince looked a bit embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he said, unsure how to express any of the other emotions pressing against his chest. “I'm glad you like them.”

They stared at each other for a moment. “I err,” Howard said after a moment. “I have something to show you actually.”

Vince’s face lit up. “Yeah? What is it?”

“It's out back,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the storeroom. Vince's face fell so quickly it was almost comical.

“Is it a new rotation system?” he asked.

Howard chuckled. “No,” he said, “come see.”

Vince trailed along behind him and into the storeroom. He could feel the moment when he realised what he was seeing because Vince stilled beside the new work station. Or, more accurately, the little desk and chair which he'd set up with Vince’s sewing machine and other equipment he didn't really understand. It had taken a lot of moving around to find the room, and he would actually need a new rotation system, but that didn't matter.

They stood in silence for a long time. “What-?” Vince said eventually.

“I thought…” Howard shrugged. “I thought it would be easier for you to work on your outfits if you had a proper space for it. And then, you know, when it's quiet… You could...” he swallowed and balled his hands into tight fists to force himself to continue. “I just thought that maybe... It would be a shame if you stopped making things to sell in the shop entirely. You seem to like it and people are buying it, so…” He was acutely aware that Vince hadn’t spoken and he rushed on to fill the silence, “Naboo said you could split your hours if you wanted to, but,” he licked his lips, “it's obviously up to you.”

The silence continued to stretch on after he stopped speaking and Vince hardly moved next to him. Howard could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He wanted to turn and leave or shout or begin a ten minute lecture on manners. But, he couldn’t do anything. He stood still, waiting.

“This is what you’ve been doing back here?” Vince said eventually.

The strange urge to deny it bubbled up in his chest but instead he cleared his throat. “Yes, do you err…” He licked his lips and wished he could read something in Vince’s face. “Do you like it?”

Vince blinked as though coming out of a trance. “It’s…” he trailed off. “I can’t believe you!” he burst out.

Howard frowned, his stomach plummeting. He was sure that he’d not overstepped his boundaries this time. But Vince looked stricken. His mind spun, trying to alight on something to say, to salvage the situation.

“How am I meant to compete with that!” Vince said, gesturing at the table. “You’ve even set my paints up next to it!”

“Well,” he said, he was definitely missing something, “I thought you hadn’t painted in a while, and I thought it might be because you didn’t really have the space… So…” He shrugged helplessly.

“I was just going to learn jazz and write you a shitty song!” Vince huffed. “But you’ve just-”

“Vince,” Howard cut in. “What are you talking about?”

“This!” Vince said again, as if it was obvious. “What am I meant to do with this?”

Howard could feel himself deflating. He’d messed up again somehow. He couldn’t think how, but that wasn’t unusual. He never seemed to see disaster looming up at him until it was right in his face. There was surely something he could say to make this better, but he didn’t have the first idea what. He could only stare in horror as Vince continued his angry rant.

“I mean!” he gestured at the table. “This is the nicest thing that anyone’s ever done for me! And I don’t know how to…” he shrugged, his face scrunched in frustration. “I’m just making you think you’re like your dad because I’m listening to jazz, which is ridiculous because you’re nothing like him at all. You’re so kind and-”

“Vince!” His voice was louder than even he was expecting, his confusion and fear making it come out harsher sounding than he meant. “What are you talking about?”

Vince looked at him, annoyance etched across his face. He froze suddenly, and his expression morphed from anger to shock to horror. He clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh God!” he gasped. “Sorry Howard!”

“I don’t understand,” he said, after a long silence where he tried to turn Vince’s words over in his head until they made sense.

“I was gonna woo you!” Vince said. “I had a plan and I just ruined it straight away!”

Howard puzzled over Vince’s words for as long as he could. Surely he’d got confused about the meaning of the word, but somehow, he didn’t think so. “Woo me?” he said.

Vince blushed and Howard watched in fascination. He didn’t think he’d ever seen him blush before. “Yeah,” he said, ducking his head and dropping eye contact. He bit his lip. “I thought you were gonna kiss me the other night and I just… I wanted to do something special for you first, you know? But, I messed it all up.”

There was simply too much information in the last few sentences for Howard to grasp at any meaning. “Vince, I don’t understand.”

Vince chewed his bottom lip. “I thought, maybe, you were trying to woo me, like with Mark,” he said, not meeting Howard’s eye. “Only, I kept getting confused, because…” he trailed off and scuffed at the floor with his boot. “I don’t know why. I was scared you were making fun of me again, I guess.”

Howard swallowed. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation. He would probably never be ready. The words were swirling in his head and his chest felt so tight that he wasn’t sure if was going to be able to breath through it. Vince needed him to speak, to show that he wasn’t wrong, that Howard had meant to woo him. “I never mean to make fun of you,” he managed in the end. “Not really.”

Vince looked up at him through his lashes and where his hair had fallen over his face. “I know,” he said and shrugged. “I just… I’ve wanted you to do this for so long that I don’t know what to do now. I was meant to sweep you off your feet but now you’ve gone and been all romantic. I don’t…” He dropped his eyes again and Howard couldn’t make out his expression.

“You’ve wanted..?” his nerve failed him at the last moment and he couldn’t quite finish the question.

Vince continued to worry at this lower lip and frown. “Come on, Howard,” he muttered. “You must know by now, I’ve been trying to show you since I came to the zoo.”

It felt like he was caught in the middle of raging sea. There was a rushing sound in his ears and his vision seemed to blur. For an odd moment he thought he might fall away into a dead faint. Which, would probably be in keeping with his style. This wasn’t how he imagined they’d have this conversation. He’d been slowly formulating a plan. Perhaps a nice meal followed by a movie. He was going to ask if Vince wanted to stargaze with him on the roof. They’d lie together on a blanket and he’d point out the four constellations that he remembered and then Vince would make up some more. They laugh and maybe their arms would brush. Then, when it was cold, he’d produce a blanket and wrap it around them both, pulling Vince to him. Then he’d say something romantic. Perhaps, tell Vince how beautiful he looked in the moonlight and then, slowly, he’d lean in to kiss him. It would be perfect. The most romantic kiss that had ever taken place.

But, then, Vince looked beautiful right now. He always did, but there was something especially lovely about him when he was looking so nervous.

He reached out to smooth his fringe out of his eyes. Vince looked up at the contact, his eyes huge and impossibly blue. It was perhaps the most heroic act he'd ever performed. “I'd very much like to kiss you, if I may,” he said, breaking his own record immediately.

Vince ducked his head to bite his lip. He watched in open fascination as he blushed again. “Yeah. Okay.”

He felt so filled with love and so elated that he was paralysed for a moment. The intensity of the feeling was so fierce it scared him. It wasn't controllable. It would engulf him completely. He’d never survive and no amount of Chinese burns was going to be enough to ground him in the face of all of this.

Then Vince smiled and he realised he didn't care. There would never be a more perfect time than now to kiss him. He moved his hand slightly, so he could cup his face and tilt it up towards him. Vince’s eyes widened for a moment before fluttering shut. There was some dim part of his mind that was screaming at him that something dreadful was about to happen, that this was no doubt a trick. But, Vince was so close that Howard didn’t care anymore. He leant down and closed the space between them.

Vince didn’t react for a moment when their lips met, but then he surged up onto his toes and wrapped his arms around Howard’s neck. Then they were kissing. A real kiss. Vince’s mouth opened under his and Howard moved his hands so he could pull him closer. They stayed like that for a few moments, before Vince pulled back and sighed. Howard felt his breath ghost across his lips. He opened his eyes to find Vince smiling up at him.

“I…” he started, thinking now would be a good time to start the speech he’d been writing since the first moment he knew he was in love with Vince. But nothing came. He couldn’t form any words.

Vince was looking at him intently. “It’s okay, Howard,” he whispered, “you don’t have to say anything.”

It was such a lovely thing to say that it felt for a moment like he was falling in love all over again.

“I think,” he started, there was so much he wanted to say. “I mean, would you like to… have dinner with me?”

Vince’s arms were still entwined around his neck, so close that he could kiss him again if he just leant forward slightly. He watched as Vince’s face flushed again and then he giggled. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Howard tried to stand tall while not letting go of his hold on Vince. It seemed very important that they not stop touching. “I am, sir, if you'd have me.”

Vince giggled again. “Yeah, alright.”

There was a long moment where Howard wasn't sure if he'd understood correctly. But the kiss coupled with the acceptance of a date seemed unequivocal. Hundreds of questions and concerns seemed to fill his head all at once. But looking down at Vince he couldn't make himself voice any of them. This was as perfect a moment as Howard Moon had ever had. He didn't want to ruin it with any clumsy attempts at suring-up Vince’s regard or demanding explanations. Instead he leant down and kissed him again, a light press of lips. He tried to soak in the feeling, commit it to memory. He pulled back and smiled.

“The shop’s still open,” he said softly. “But… tonight?”

Vince grinned up at him. “Yeah,” he breathed softly. “Yeah, okay.”

“I can…” he started and stopped, dropping a kiss on the end of Vince’s nose before making himself continue, “I can close up and meet you upstairs?”

“We going out or..?” Vince blushed again.

A thousand imagines clamoured for his attention in his mind at Vince’s blush. “Perhaps we should… err, go out,” he said gently. There was still so much to say, he didn't think it would be a good idea if they were distracted by being alone together in the flat. He could barely stand the idea of letting Vince go as it was and they needed to talk, to at least establish if they were on the same page.

Vince let out a soft breath and nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. “I'll go get ready.” He rocked up onto his toes and pressed his lips to Howard’s again. It was a fast, gentle touch of lips but it made Howard's entire body hum with pleasure.

Then Vince was gone, the storeroom door clicking shut behind him. Howard stared at it for a long time, trying very hard not to think, not to feel. But he couldn't help the dazed smile that worked its way across his face.

 

TBC


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think...” Howard started, looking a bit pained. “This is a big change and I guess we should take it slowly.” 
> 
> Vince frowned. “What's that mean?” 
> 
> “I just mean,” Howard swallowed and looked away. “It's a big decision and you might want to change your mind once we start and I wouldn't want us to rush into anything until you're sure.” 
> 
> It felt like Vince’s heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He didn't want to take it slow, whatever that meant. He'd wanted Howard for as long as he could remember. He didn't need time to think about anything. But he realised with a sinking feeling that Howard probably meant that he might change his mind. He'd changed it about Mark after all, once they were together. He didn't know what he'd do if Howard took this away from him now. But he didn't know how to say that, especially if Howard was already having second thoughts. So he nodded instead.

**Chapter Five**

Vince stumbled out of the storeroom feeling dazed, like maybe the last fifteen minutes had all been a sugar induced dream. He made his way upstairs to start to get ready for a date. A date with Howard. He didn't know what he was doing. He had no idea where they were going or what it even meant. He wasn't sure how to plan an outfit for that.

Howard had kissed him, he thought dumbly while staring at his wardrobe. Howard had turned his precious storeroom into a workroom for Vince so he didn't need to work at night. He'd even suggested that Vince keep making things to sell in shop, had even got Naboo to agree. Then he'd asked Vince on a real date. None of it seemed like it could possibly be real. He started to get ready without really knowing what he was doing, half waiting to wake up or be told it was all some terrible joke.

But then Howard arrived having closed the shop for the day. He paused briefly at the top of the stairs and smiled a bit bashfully at Vince before heading into the bathroom. Vince stared after him; it was really happening. He wasn't sure what he ought to do while he waited. He was pretty much ready, having spent the afternoon trying and rejecting outfit after outfit. He flittered around the flat after finishing his final touches, picking objects up at random and moving them around, unable to settle.

When Howard emerged from the bedroom he was changed and apparently ready to take him on their first ever date.

He looked… Well, he looked like Howard but a bit smarter. Which was both reassuring and terrifying at the same time. He’d sort of expected him to transform into a completely different person if anything were to finally happen. But, he was still wearing his beloved cords and a shirt. He’d kept the shoes he'd started wearing after he got together with Mark and he'd tried to wrestle his hair into a sort of style.

“You look good,” Vince said and then felt himself blush which was mortifying.

Howard at least blushed too and shuffled his feet. “Ah, thank you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. It fell out immediately which was oddly endearing. “You look… you're…” Howard gestured at him. “It's a good outfit,” he decided on in the end.

Vince had the sudden urge to cover up, he felt exposed, like Howard had seen behind the curtain to everything behind. He knew how hard Vince had to work to look good and it made him feel a bit silly. He didn't know what to say but the silence was going on a bit too long. “Where we going?” he asked in order to fill it.

“I thought,” Howard started, “there's this little Italian that's meant to be nice.”

“Genius!” he said, totally unsure he'd even be able to eat anything but wanting to agree with whatever Howard suggested.

“Are you… Should we go?” Howard said.

“Yeah!” He hoped his voice didn't sound as shrill and strange as it did to his own ears.

He followed Howard down the stairs. He wanted to hold his hand. Was he allowed to hold his hand now? Isn't that what you did on dates? He tried to remember the last time he'd been on a real date to a real restaurant. It might have been years. He'd mostly taken people to clubs or gigs. He wasn't sure how to be a couple. Were they even a couple, though? He desperately wanted to ask but he didn't know how. What if it scared Howard off?

They walked down the street in silence. He could feel the warmth of Howard down his side as their arms brushed as they walked. It was nice but he was restless for more. “You been here before?” he asked in the end, just for something to say.

“Erm,” Howard said, “no. But I've heard it's quite good.”

He wondered if he'd heard that from Mark. Maybe they were planning on going there before they broke up. The thought made him feel a bit panicked. He didn't know how to be someone's date. Howard and Mark had probably talked about books and weird cinema that he didn't understand on their dates. How was he meant to follow that and not be a huge disappointment? He tried to think of the last book he'd read. He couldn't remember. Old copies of Cheekbone probably didn't count. Maybe he could talk about cinema. Howard had made him watch a couple of documentaries over the years. But he didn't remember much about them.

They walked the rest of the way in silence and Vince got more and more tense with every passing second. The restaurant turned out to be small and cozy. Vince could smell pizza. It was nice, not too fancy, which made him feel a bit better. He hated places that had more than one set of knife and fork, they got him confused and made him feel silly before he even picked up a menu. He hid behind the massive menu he was given as they sat down and pretended to read it for a few moments. But he couldn't seem to make out any of the words. His heart was starting to pound in his chest and the words were blurring. He needed to say something.

“What are you going to have?” Howard asked after the silence had gone on for ages and ages with only Vince’s pounding heart to punctuate it.

“I don't know what I'm doing!” he burst out finally, peeking over the top of the menu.

Howard slowly lowered his own menu and looked at him. “What-?” he started but it was like a dam had broken and Vince couldn't stop talking.

“I don't know how to be on a date! I'm not sure what to say! I want to hold your hand or kiss you but I’m not sure if I'm allowed. I don't know what we're doing or what I ought to say.”

“I…” Howard started and then trailed off. Vince fidgeted with his fringe and wished he'd worn a slightly less revealing outfit. “I don't know either,” he said eventually.

“Oh,” Vince said, sinking back into his seat as his heart started to slow down. At least they were in the same boat and Howard wasn’t secretly judging Vince for not knowing how to act. “Okay then.”

“I just wanted to…” Howard started. “I thought we should talk about what happened, and I wanted to take you out somewhere nice…” He looked a bit pained. “But if you want to leave-”

“No!” Vince cut in. “I want to stay. I’m just not sure how to act now.”

“You don't have to-” Howard leant forward. “I'm not asking for anything you don't… I mean, nothing has to change…” He sighed again. “I just… I hoped to show you my regard and how much I…” he swallowed and Vince watched as he balled his hands into tight fists. “I wanted to confess-”

“Good evening gentlemen!” They both jumped as a portly man appeared at the table brandishing a pad and chalkboard. “Can I get you some drinks? We have a number of specials…”

Vince couldn't follow anything he was saying, his eyes were glued to Howard. What had he been about to say?

“We'll, ah,” Howard stuttered. “Wine, Vince?”

“What?” he asked, startled and trying to replay the last few moments to grasp at the question. “Oh, yeah, white,” he muttered, not caring and unsure he'd be able to taste anything anyway.

“Ah! Can I suggest…” He tuned him out again until Howard muttered something else and he left.

“Sorry,” Howard said softly after he was gone. “I'm not sure-”

“You said you wanted to confess-” Vince prompted, leaning forward.

“Oh,” Howard said, fiddling with the menu again. “Yes, I meant to say, I hoped that over the last few weeks I'd perhaps shown that I care for you, ah… That I care for you a great deal.”

Vince frowned. “I know you do, Howard. We’ve been friends for years.”

“Yes, but err… I care for you…” Howard was fidgeting and Vince watched as his right hand came to rest lightly against his left forearm. “My feelings for you are… romantic in nature.”

Everything seemed to relax in Vince all at once. It made him want to giggle. He knew instinctively that Howard would not like that reaction and so he clamped down on the impulse firmly. “I… thanks Howard,” he stuttered and then felt stupid. There was so much he wanted to say. “I think-”

“Here we are!” The waiter was back with the wine and Vince wanted to kick him in the shin. He bit his lip instead as Howard tried the wine and they were both poured a glass. “Can I take your food order?”

Vince had forgotten they were even meant to be considering what to eat. He snatched up the menu and glanced at the pizzas, not wanting to be interrupted again. “This one,” he said, pointing at one at random, “please,” he added a bit belatedly.

“Oh, erm,” Howard said, staring hard at the menu. The silence dragged on for a long time before Howard pointed at something himself and the waiter left again.

The silence returned once they were alone again. Vince knew he should say something but he had no idea where to even start.

“You don't-” Howard started before cutting himself off. “I know this is a lot to take in and you may not even want to explore anything like that with me, but-”

“I do!” His voice was panicked and a bit too loud. The couple sat at the next table looked over at him. Vince ducked his head and felt his cheeks heat. “I do want to… I like you too.”

Howard's moustache twitched and he wondered if it was concealing an almost smile. “That’s… good,” he said. “I mean, I'm glad.”

Vince smiled softly. “Me too,” mumbled. He wriggled in his chair. “What does… what's happening?” He forced the question out even though it made his chest feel a bit tight.

“I think...” Howard started, looking a bit pained. “This is a big change and I guess we should take it slowly.”

Vince frowned. “What's that mean?”

“I just mean,” Howard swallowed and looked away. “It's a big decision and you might want to change your mind once we start and I wouldn't want us to rush into anything until you're sure.”

It felt like Vince’s heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He didn't want to take it slow, whatever that meant. He'd wanted Howard for as long as he could remember. He didn't need time to think about anything. But he realised with a sinking feeling that Howard probably meant that he might change his mind. He'd changed it about Mark after all, once they were together. He didn't know what he'd do if Howard took this away from him now. But he didn't know how to say that, especially if Howard was already having second thoughts. So he nodded instead.

“Vince,” Howard said, his tone made Vince look up from the table clothe and meet his eyes. He looked serious, almost worried. “You will tell me, right? If you aren't… If this isn't what you want?”

“Yeah,” he said, not understanding why Howard was already trying to build in an escape hatch to their relationship. It made him feel vulnerable and worried.

Howard let out a slow breath. “Okay,” he said. “Good.”

There was another long silence. Vince wanted to ask a million questions but he couldn't pick one and he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Instead he picked up his wine and drank some.

“So,” Howard said eventually. “Do you think you will start making things for the shop or...?”

He latched onto the change in topic gratefully. He babbled on and on about clothes until the food came. The conversation for the rest of the meal was a little stilted but the wine helped Vince feel a bit more relaxed. They didn't talk about their relationship again and Vince was too afraid to bring it up.

Once they got back to the flat Howard paused in the kitchen and looked at his shoes. “Thank you for tonight, Vince,” he said. He was so sincere sounding that it made Vince feel a bit embarrassed.

“It's fine,” he said. “I mean, I had a nice time too.”

“Can I..?” Howard asked, edging closer and flicking glances up to Vince's face. “Would it be alright if I, err, kissed you?”

Vince's heart leapt. He nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Howard smiled and closed the gap between them. The kiss made something fizz in Vince’s head. He could feel every point of contact down his body, making him tingle. He pressed himself forward, wanting more. Howard opened his mouth and Vince slid his tongue inside. It felt amazing. Unlike any kiss he'd ever had before. It was exciting and safe at the same time. Howard's arms around his waist pulled him up and against his chest. Vince brought his hands up to sink into Howard's hair. He couldn't help but nudge his hips forward, just wanting to feel some friction. They both moaned into the kiss and the jolt of lust that shot through Vince made him feel a bit like he might have been electrocuted.

Howard pulled back, breathing hard. “We should stop,” he said.

Vince wanted to stamp his feet but instead he nodded dumbly.

“It's a big step and I want you to be sure,” Howard said, his eyes looked a bit wild.

“Okay,” Vince said instead of screaming that he'd been sure for most of his life.

Howard took a step back, and Vince felt cold. “Good night, Vince,” Howard said softly before turning and hurrying into the bathroom.

Vince stared after him, feeling confused and frustrated.

\----

It turned out that taking it slow meant driving Vince out of his mind. They continued to go on dates, which was actually really nice. They went to the cinema or for food and one time just to the pub for a drink. Vince couldn't remember the last time they’d done something together that didn't involve them being in mortal danger or at work. It was nice and they laughed and talked about nothing. But… it felt weird too. It wasn't really what he'd imagined they'd be like if they were a couple. Howard was being very sweet and once he even held Vince's hand in the cinema. But otherwise nothing changed when they were out.

When they were home it was different. There was a lot of kissing. Every time they were alone for more than a couple of minutes they seemed to be locked at the lips. It was amazing. But every time Vince tried to move anything on, Howard pulled back. He wasn't sure what it was that Howard was exactly worried about but he was adamant that nothing too physical happen.

But that didn't stop Vince from trying it on anyway. He could tell that Howard wanted him. Or at least, he was pretty confident he did. The evidence ended up pressed against his belly often enough when Howard had him pinned to the nearest wall or table or once a nearby van. He knew he should ask what was wrong, but everything else was so good that he couldn't bring himself to rock the boat. He didn't think he'd stopped smiling since their first date. It was almost like he was floating. A few weeks ago he wouldn't have believed that he and Howard could be the same room without arguing. But now, Howard was asking to spend time with him and apparently wanted to be his boyfriend. He was beside himself with joy.

Or at least he would be if it weren't for the tight ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. Their conversation on the first night kept playing over and over in his mind and every time Howard pulled back or grabbed Vince’s hands as they attempted to go below the waist, he felt a little more worried. Surely Howard must be having doubts if he didn't want them to move forward with their relationship. It felt like he was hedging his bets, or maybe just testing Vince out before deciding if he wanted to keep him.

It all left him feeling confused and worried. Not to mention frustrated. He was spending more time in the bathroom than he’d done in his entire life. Which was really saying something.

For their latest date they’d decided to stay in so Howard could cook for them and they could watch a film. They’d lasted about ten minutes before Vince had given into the urge he’d valiantly resisted for the last ten years, while sitting next to Howard on the sofa, and leaned across and kissed him. Howard hadn’t hesitated to return the kiss and the film had been completely forgotten. They'd been kissing for what might have been several years. Vince hadn't been able to keep track. It was still almost overwhelming to have Howard's hands on him. He’d somehow managed to manoeuvre himself so Howard was lying on top of him and had promptly lost all sense of time and space.

Vince couldn't seem to stop his hips from thrusting up against Howard. He could feel an answering hardness as he pushed up. He groaned. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him. That was until Howard pushed back against him and his head went a bit dizzy.

“This is amazing,” he gasped into Howard’s mouth.

Howard just groaned and pushed down against him again. Vince opened his legs to give him better access and then Howard was able to align their cocks through their jeans. He groaned again at the friction and tried to buck into Howard’s downward motion. It felt so good he was sure he was going to lose his mind. He didn’t think he’d ever been so turned on in his life. Being able to feel Howard, hard and straining against him was the most extraordinary thing he’d ever experienced. He groaned again and thrust upwards, he was going to come in his pants, he wasn’t sure if he’d actually done that before, but he didn’t care. He was so close and it felt so good.

“We should,” Howard said, his voice rough, “We should stop.”

“What?” he gasped even as Howard was pulling away from him and struggling to sit up.

Howard moved so he was kneeling between Vince’s legs and tugged down his shirt, leaving Vince feeling confused and cold. “We should stop,” Howard said again.

“But why?” Vince burst out. He hadn’t realised he was going to sound quite so loud or frustrated and he winced at himself.

“I just think we ought to slow down,” Howard said, he must have said the same phrase a hundred times and Vince was so tired of it he wanted to scream.

“If you don’t wanna have sex with me, Howard, you could just say,” he snapped, feeling stupid. He scrambled to sit up to, and turned on the sofa so he was sitting properly and, most importantly, no longer looking at Howard.

“I didn’t say that,” Howard said, sounding a little flustered. “We just shouldn’t rush into anything before-”

“Yeah,” Vince snapped again, he knew he was being a bit of a dick, but he was confused and worried and he didn’t know how to express it. “But we ain’t actually moving at all, are we?” Howard shifted on the sofa, so they were sitting side by side. Vince shuffled along so they weren’t touching, it was probably a bit petty, but he wanted to show Howard how he was making Vince feel, even just a little.

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with what we’re doing,” Howard said after a moment.

Howard's reasonable tone made something in him boil over. “I don’t know what that even means, it doesn't make any sense,” he huffed.

"I don't want you to do anything just to make me happy!" It was Howard’s turn to snap and he moved further down the sofa, putting even more space between them.

Vince frowned deeply and looked over at him. "What?"

"I mean it," Howard said. "I know you feel like you have to please everyone, even if it doesn't make you happy. I don’t want this to be like that.” Vince watched him, feeling a bit confused, Howard looked genuinely agitated. “All the times you might have done something just because you thought you had to... It makes me... I just..." He took a deep breath. "I need you to be sure."

"I do wanna do this," he said. He was confused, but at least it didn’t sound like Howard was trying to break up with him. He edged toward him down the sofa.

"Really?" he asked, looking at Vince hard. "Are you sure, or do you think you have to because I want to? The first time I tried to kiss you, you left."

"But that were just because I was surprised!" Vince felt guilty and a bit embarrassed. He didn't realise Howard even knew that had happened. "Just because I were nervous don't mean I didn't want to." He wondered how to explain it. "I've wanted to do this since we were little... Since I knew what it even were!"

If anything that made Howard look even more upset. "Exactly!" he snapped. "Have you thought about the implications of what we're doing?"

He didn't really know what that meant, so instead of answering, he glared down at his hands.

"If we do this," Howard said after a long pause, "it might ruin our friendship forever. I don't think there would be any going back."

"But, there ain't any going back now!" Vince burst out. "If you break up with me now..." He wasn't sure what he was even threatening. He couldn't imagine them ever not being friends, not really, but he also didn't think he could cope if Howard took this away. "Us not doing this wasn't exactly working out, either," he said in the end.

Howard huffed out a breath, it was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. Vince wondered what it meant. "I guess you're right."

Vince looked up and saw Howard was at least half smiling. He edged closer again. “I am sometimes, you know," he said. “Do you…” he started and trailed off, still scared to ask. He balled his hands so that his fingernails dug into the palm of his hands. “Do you want to do it?” The silence went on so long that Vince’s stomach started to drop at the thought that Howard didn't want him. In the end he forced himself to look up, Howard was looking at his own hands, a pained expression on his face. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't seem to form the words. The thought that Howard might be about to break up with him hung in the air, making him feel queasy.

"I just," Howard muttered before trailing off. Vince gritted his teeth and waited for him to continue while trying to not fidget. "When we finally make that leap across the physical barrier I want it to be good. But, I’m not… I’m just not sure what I’m doing."

Vince frowned at him. "Didn't you... you know… with Mark?" He balled his hands back into tight fists to try and stop himself reacting to whatever Howard might be about to say. He hadn't asked any questions since the first time Howard brushed him off after his night with Mark and he honestly wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it.

Howard blushed and managed a shrug of his shoulders. "We..."

Vince knew he was treading on potentially dangerous ground, for both of them, but there was no way he was going to stop the conversation now. “Was it not... Did you not... like it?" He suddenly felt guilty for not asking before; maybe Howard just didn't like sex. Maybe he'd been pushing him into something he didn't want.

"It was... fine," Howard said, but Vince could tell there was something else. Howard was bunched over, his face a mask of discomfort.

Vince bit his lip. Had something happened that Howard didn't want? He'd track that skinny twat down and kill him if he'd done anything that Howard wasn't comfortable with. He wondered how to ask without making Howard feel worse. "Did he..." he started and then stopped. "Was it bad?"

Howard shrugged and fidgeted, adjusting his shirt and shifting on the sofa. "It was… it didn’t really..." he muttered. "It was... I wasn't sure what to…” He paused and took a deep breath, looking frustrated and anxious. “Everything was just so uncomfortable and awkward," he managed finally.

Vince relaxed slightly. "Yeah," he said softly. "It can be like that sometimes the first time. Especially if you're a bit nervous." Howard looked up, surprise making his eyes bigger than normal. Vince smiled a little, things beginning to make sense. Of course Howard hadn't realised that sex wasn't always like it was in films and on TV. He'd probably been expecting fireworks and a full orchestra. He was such a romantic, he never knew what to do if things weren’t perfect immediately. He reached out and slowly put his hand on Howard’s arm, not wanting to startle him.

"But," Howard said, sounding a bit distraught, "I don't want it to be like that with us! I just want it to be perfect and I'm not sure..."

Vince's chest filled with affection. "I reckon it will be though, it’s us... I don't care if you don't know all the moves yet, we can just kiss or roll around. I ain't fussed, Howard, I’m sorry I got annoyed; I just thought you didn't want to because maybe you were getting ready to chuck me again if I did the wrong thing."

"What?" Howard looked horrified, which made the last of Vince's nerves evaporate.

He shrugged. "It don't matter," he mumbled, looking away.

"I just didn't want you to do something that was uncomfortable and awkward with me…” he said, making Vince look at him again. “Something that you might not have even wanted to do, but were just because you're too nice to say no."

"I ain't that nice, Howard," he said, feeling almost annoyed. "If I were that nice, I would have asked ages ago if you were okay and what you wanted instead of trying to keep you with me even if you didn't want to be."

“I should have said something,” Howard said, with a shake of his head. “I just wanted us to be… I just wanted you to know how I feel before we do… I was trying to show you how I felt and then maybe it would...” He ran out of words and gestured vaguely.

Vince smiled at him. “How do you feel, Howard?” The words were scary even as he forced them out of his mouth, but he knew he had to say them. He was being selfish by not bringing it up, because now he was worried that Howard might be be just doing all of this to make him happy and he didn't want that either. “Because I love you and I don’t want this to ever end but I don’t want to do anything you ain’t happy with.”

The silence went on for a long time, Vince wondered if Howard could hear how loud his heart was beating, it felt like it was trying to leap out of his chest. Like maybe it was trying to escape and make its way over to where Howard was sitting. He wanted to take back the words as the silence stretched on, but it was too late. Even if Howard didn’t say anything, that was basically the same as saying that he didn’t feel what Vince did.

Howard was staring at him intently, not moving. “Do you…” he whispered eventually, “Do you mean that?”

Part of him wanted to snap at him that, no, he obviously just went around confessing his love to all his friends. Maybe a few weeks ago he would have. But he bit down on the impulse and thought about Howard learning to make clothes for him and his little work station down in the storeroom. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “Yeah, always have and probably always will.”

Howard surged forward and kissed him hard. Vince was pushed back by the force of it, but he tried his best to meet its passion. He reach up and wrapped his arms around Howard’s shoulders and tugged him closer. Then they were back in the same position, with Howard on top of him and kissing for all they were worth. He felt a bit dizzy with it all, but he didn’t want it to end.

“I love you,” Howard whispered, moving back only slightly, so the words ghosted along Vince’s lips as he said them, “I love you so much.”

Vince kissed him again, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry or maybe scream with joy. His chest felt so full of emotion he didn’t know what to do with it. “I love you too,” he said because he wasn’t sure what else to do.

They kissed again, Howard’s weight on top of him felt reassuring as he still felt giddy with the confessions. He sighed into the kiss.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Howard said.

Vince’s eyes flew open. “Yeah?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

But Howard was already clambering to his feet and holding out his hand to Vince. He took it and was hauled up from the sofa. They made their way swiftly to the bedroom, not even bothering to turn the film that was still playing on the TV off as they went.

Vince flicked the light on as they entered the room and Howard turned to kiss him. Vince could feel his nerves starting to grow as they clung to each other. He was desperate to make it good for Howard, he hated the thought that whatever had happened with Mark might have put him off. But it wasn’t like he’d been having a lot of sex with men himself, it had been years and he wasn't an expert to begin with. But, Howard deserved something special and he was determined to give it to him.

He began to unbutton Howard’s shirt, thinking it was probably time to remove some clothes if this was really going to happen. Of course Howard was wearing a vest under the shirt and so he scrabbled with it, pulling it up and out of where it was tucked into Howard’s trousers. He sighed as he was finally able to slide his hand underneath and touch the skin there. He swept his hands over Howard’s stomach, feeling the light dusting of hair under his belly button. He felt Howard immediately suck in a breath, drawing his belly in and holding it there. When he didn’t let it go, Vince grinned. He'd never really imagined Howard being self conscious about his body. He moved his hand down, gently tucking his fingers under his waistband to explore and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from Howard.

He pulled back a bit so he could get on with the business of removing some more clothing. There was some shuffling as Howard got stuck in his shirt because Vince was too eager to remove his vest at the same time. Once he was topless, Vince surged forward again to kiss him, not wanting to leave any time for him to think too much. He let his hands run down Howard’s back, marveling at the expanse of skin now available to him. He’d seen him naked a fair bit over the years but finally being able to touch made him feel jittery with excitement. He didn’t know where he wanted to touch first and he ended up hardly even returning the kisses as he concentrated on the feeling of the soft, warm skin under his hands. Howard huffed a bit impatiently into the kiss and began to step back, his hands coming up to start unbuttoning Vince’s blouse, which was a genius idea because then he’d be able to feel more of Howard with his bare skin.

His buttons were small and fiddly and Howard’s fingers kept fumbling with them as he attempted to wrestle them out of their holes. Vince tried to help, but they kept getting tangled up so he dropped his hands again and tried to wait.

“I’m buying you new tops that are only done up with Velcro,” Howard muttered, a little frown on his face.

Vince giggled. “Like a stripper?”

Howard’s mouth twitched. “You dress like one anyway,” he said. “Might as well commit to the look.” He finally finished with the last button and gave a little ‘ha’ of victory and grinned to himself.

“Fine,” he said, grinning at the pleasure in Howard’s eyes and shrugging off the silky material and letting it drop to the floor. “But I’m imposing a maximum layer rule for you, who needs twenty layers anyway? You’re basically a Russian doll.”

“I’m building my look,” Howard said, stepping closer and running his hands gently down Vince’s arms, making him shiver with anticipation. “Layering it like paint on a canvas.”

Vince wanted to make a joke, but not as much as he wanted to kiss Howard again, so he just smiled and stepped forward to close the rest of the distance between them. He sighed happily when they were finally pressed together. Howard’s skin was soft and warm under him and it felt like he was tingling at every point of contact. Howard’s hands ran down his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Vince moaned into their kiss. Howard responded by pulling him closer. He opened his mouth to let Howard’s tongue in and they were snogging like their lives depended on it. It was more than he expected and not enough all at once. But then Howard’s hands were moving to the waistband of his jeans and his head swam for a moment at the shot of lust that ran through his whole body. His jeans at least popped open easily enough, and Howard didn’t stop kissing him as he unzipped the fly. Not wanting to be the only one losing more clothing he began unbuckling Howard’s belt and made short work of the fastening of his trousers.

They were going to need to separate for the next bit, so Vince took a step back but then felt immediately bereft so leant back in to drop a kiss on Howard's nose. He had to go onto his tiptoes to do it, but it was worth it to see the slightly bashful smile Howard gave him in return. Then he was pulling down his jeans; they weren’t his tightest pair, but they weren’t exactly loose either, so he had to do some fairly undignified hopping around to get them off both legs. He ended up standing on the first leg he got off and pulling his leg out, only that unbalanced him and he toppled into Howard.

“Bloody hell,” he said, feeling a bit stupid and exposed in his little pants.

But Howard's hands were gentle as they held him in place and he was grinning at him so sweetly Vince found himself not really minding. They kissed again, as Vince’s hands went to Howard's trousers and pushed them to the floor. There was such a thin layer of fabric separating them now that Vince shivered again and angled their hips together. They both groaned as their cocks brushed through the remaining material.

Vince’s mind was racing with the possibilities. He wanted to be able to guide them through the next steps, but he was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Howard was the one to step back and pull him backwards until they were at his bed. They paused, looking at each other.

“Bloody hell, Howard,” Vince said unable to keep the words in anymore. “Are we gonna have sex?” His nerves were making him feel a bit jittery like he might giggle.

Howard stared at him for a moment. “That's the idea, sir,” he said. He looked determined but not exactly happy about the situation.

Maybe taking things slowly was the answer. Vince tugged him until they were lying down on the bed, facing each other. Then he brought his hand up to run through Howard’s hair gently and kissed him softly. Howard slowly began to relax under his hands as he continued to kiss him and run his hands down his arms and over his shoulders. Vince shuffled forward so they were touching down the length of their bodies. He felt so good to have Howard so close, not to mention practically naked, that he he lost himself to the sensation. Howard wound his arms around him and tugged until Vince was top of him, which opened up a whole new set of sensations that were all equally brilliant. He was able to push down with his hips for one thing, Howard responded by sucking in a breath and pulling him closer. He could angle his hips now, too so their cocks were aligned and he could feel the hard length of Howard against his own. He moaned into the kiss. Truth was, he could have stayed like that, rocking against Howard until he came, sticky and satisfied in his pants. But he felt like he owed him something a bit more than that.

So he wriggled down the bed, kissing a trail down Howard’s chest as he went. He got a little thrill with every new patch of skin he was able to reach. The idea that he was allowed to do this, that Howard might even like it, was captivating. He grinned to himself as he kissed a path to his belly. He paused at Howard’s boxers, he could see the outline of his cock, hard and straining against the thin material. He reached out to trace it lightly with his finger, making Howard buck and hiss out a breath. Vince smiled and used his finger to trace the outline again, running it around the tip. He leaned forward, watching in fascination as a damp patch formed. He couldn't resist leaning down and wrapping his lips around it through the material, wanting to feel the heavy heat of it.

“Vince,” Howard gasped above him.

He looked up to see Howard’s eyes screwed shut and his hands balled in the sheets.

“Alright, Howard?” he asked, not wanting to move too quickly or do anything to make him uncomfortable.

He waited for Howard to nod, before gently taking hold of his boxers and tugging them down. Howard helped by shifting his hips up. Vince took the opportunity to pull off his socks which he'd left on, like a full stop to his nakedness. He took a moment to take him in, the long, lean lines of his body. It was a beautiful site. He'd spent a lot of time imagining this moment, being able to take his time to really look. Howard was still as attractive as he had been when Vince realised he was in love with him. Although his hard lines and spikes had rounded and soften over the years, he was still Howard and Vince loved him with his whole being. He didn't know how to express that outloud so instead he pulled the last of his own clothes off and crawled back up the bed to lie over him.

Howard stared up at him for a moment before kissing him. Being able to feel the hardness of his cock rubbing against his hip, with the counterpoint of dampness at the tip, made his own dick throb with lust. He pushed down, rotating his hips a bit to get some friction. Howard responded by wrapping his arms around his waist and bucking up into him. Vince considered again just getting them get off like this, but dismissed it. He wanted to show Howard how good sex could be and he deserved more than a dry hump, however nicely he was currently thrusting up into him.

He allowed himself one more kiss before sliding back down Howard’s body to lay a series of kisses across his hip bone. It made Howard wriggle under him, and Vince looked back up at him through his fringe, wanting to check again that he was aware of what he was about to do. Howard was looking down at him with wide eyes. He looked surprised, but not worried, so he allowed his trail of kisses to move towards his cock and licked a strip from its thick base to the tip.

“Vince,” Howard gasped.

It was a happy sound, so Vince felt confident to take him into his mouth. He didn’t bother with any teasing, sucking him down quickly before sliding back up to run his tongue around the tip. Howard was moaning and writhing under him already and the sounds he was making were making Vince’s own cock throb urgently. It was almost overwhelming, every sense seemed to be heightened as he swallowed around Howard again and concentrated on taking as much of him in as he could. Howard was big, which wasn’t a surprise exactly, but it had been awhile since he’d given head and he couldn’t get as far down the shaft as he wanted. He tried relaxing his throat but when Howard hit the back of his throat the other man gasped and bucked his hips, making Vince gag and pull back.

“Sorry!” Howard gasped again, scrabbling to sit up. “Are you okay?”

Vince could feel himself blushing, which was stupid, but he should have known that Howard wouldn’t be able to hold still when this was still all so new to him. He should have been prepared. “Yeah, m’fine,” he said. “You just surprised me.”

Howard looked worried so he shifted back up the bed to kiss him and urge him to lie back down. Once he could feel Howard relax again he worked his way back down his body and took him back into his mouth, this time keeping his hands on Howard’s hips, gently keeping him in place. He felt a bit self conscious at first, until the taste and smells and noises Howard was making made him lose track of his worries.

“Vince,” Howard huffed, then, more urgently, “Vince.”

He pulled back, not wanting the moment to be over and grinned up at Howard from his position between his legs. Howard was staring at him, looking a bit surprised, but happy. He crawled up his body so they could kiss again. He opened his mouth as Howard wrapped his arms around him and kissed him hard. He felt elated and more turned on than he had ever been in his life.

“You wanna fuck me, Howard?” he whispered between kisses.

“What?” Howard asked, his whole body locking up under him.

Vince opened his eyes. Far from the pleased or excited expression that he’d expected to find, Howard looked scared, even a bit horrified. It was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over him. He pulled back, feeling embarrassed and stupid. He wanted to make a joke or take back the words, but he wasn’t sure what to say. “I thought…” he started and then trailed off, looking away.

“I-” Howard said but also clearly didn't have the words and stopped speaking.

“Don’t matter,” Vince said eventually. “We can do whatever if you don’t want to do that.” He needed to think of something to make this whole thing less awkward but he felt embarrassed and too flustered to think of anything.

“I just,” Howard said, perhaps picking on Vince’s shift in mood. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just didn’t think… I’m not sure… That is to say I’ve read the materials but I haven’t…”

Vince frowned at him. “What about Mark?”

“We didn't, I wasn’t…” Howard look so flustered that Vince almost took pity on him, but he was also desperate to know what he was about to say, so he bit his tongue and stayed quiet. “I didn’t feel comfortable and so we did… other things.”

Vince almost wanted to smile at the admission, he’d assumed that Howard would have been so happy to finally have a partner that he’d have leapt at the chance to explore everything. “Oh,” he said because he wasn’t sure what else he ought to say. “Well, if you aren’t sure, we can do anything. I don’t mind.”

Howard frowned at him. “Did you want to… do that?” Howard made a vague gesture which made Vince giggle. Howard gave him a stern look which only made him want to giggle harder.

“Sorry, Howard,” he said, trying to stop his face from smiling. “It’s just weird talking to you about this.”

Howard rolled his eyes. “Well, I think it’s important that we do and I’d thank you not to make fun of me for it.”

Vince bit his lip. “I don’t mean nothing by it,” he said. “I just don’t know what to say, I ain’t used to talking about it. People have just tended to assume and I’ve…” He trailed off, aware that didn’t sound good.

“See!” Howard said, making Vince wince. “I knew it! This is why I wanted to wait. I don’t want you to do something just because you think that’s what I want. Having penetrative sex is not something to be taken lightly-” He gave Vince a sharp look as though sensing he was about to giggle again. “It’s not something you have to do with your partner and it isn’t something that I would just assume you'd want. Plenty of gay couples don’t do it and that doesn’t make them any less intimate.”

He sounded so sweet and earnest, even if it also sounded like he might have swallowed a textbook, that Vince just wanted to get back to all the kissing. But he didn’t want to put Howard off even more. “I know that,” he said, trying to sound certain and not like he was about to giggle again. “I just… That's how I've always imagined it.”

Howard's eyes snapped to him. “What do you mean?”

Vince felt his cheeks heat again. “Come on, Howard,” he said, looking down at the sheets. “You know what I mean… Before, when I’d think about us having sex, I always imagined you… doing that to me.” He looked up to find Howard looking at him with bit of a glazed expression on his face. “But, we don’t have to,” he added hastily. “We can do whatever you like, really, I’m good with whatever.”

“I’ve… thought about it too,” Howard said, his face red and eyes not quite meeting Vince’s. “It’s… a nice thought.”

Vince couldn't help his smile this time. “Geez, don’t over sell it, Howard,” he said.

“It’s the best thought I’ve ever had,” Howard said after a moment, amusement in his voice but also just enough earnestness to make Vince want to blush and squirm under his gaze.

“Okay,” he said and shrugged. “That’s good then.”

“I just,” Howard started. “I’m just not sure… I’ve not done it and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Vince said, “I can help you. I’ll be on top if you like, make it easier.”

Howard went a very strange shade of red that made Vince want to blush himself. “That, err, that would be good.”

“Okay,” Vince said, feeling relieved to have had the conversation, and even a bit proud of them both for managing it without a fight. “There’s some stuff in my bedside draw.” He’d gone out and stocked up as soon as he was sure that Howard liked him, not wanting to waste any opportunity that might come his way. They’d mostly felt like they were tormenting, as he lay in his bed alone at night while they sat untouched in the draw next to his head. He rolled over and opened the draw and plucked out a bottle and foil wrapper. “I got tested,” he said as he handed it over, “but it don’t always show up first time and so…”

Howard kissed him. “Of course,” he said. “Me too, but, better safe than sorry.”

“That’s what I call you when you ain’t around,” Vince said with a little grin.

Howard rolled his eyes at him but he looked so fond that it made Vince’s stomach flutter. Then he was kissing him and Vince was being pulled into Howard’s lap and nothing seemed to matter any more.

“Lie down,” Vince whispered.

Once Howard complied, he straddled his hips and reached out to grab the bottle. The plastic was still on it and he fumbled with it for a few moments, trying to get it off. He realised his hands were sweating a bit, so he rubbed them on the covers and tried again. He finally got the bottle open and passed it back to Howard, who poured quite a lot of lube onto his fingers before pausing and looking up at him with a serious expression on his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Vince just nodded and pushed up onto his knees, to give him better access. “Come on, Howard,” he said.

He watched the bob of Howard’s throat as he swallowed and then he sat up so he could reach up and around Vince. He hissed when he felt Howard’s blunt finger enter him. The stretch of it was almost surprising and he closed his eyes, not wanting to give anything away. But Howard paused anyway until Vince bit his lip and pushed back against his hand. “Fuck,” he whispered when he felt Howard’s finger curl a little inside of him.

“Are you-”

“It’s good,” he interrupted, “it’s really good.”

Howard moved his finger out and then slid it back in and Vince couldn't help the little moan that fell from his lips at the feeling of it. That seemed to be enough encouragement for Howard to pour some more lube onto his hand and add a second finger. Vince gasped. “Bloody hell,” he said, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Howard’s. “That feels amazing.”

Howard kissed him hard and the sensation was so good it made Vince push back against his hand, wanting to feel the movement inside him. Howard responded by scissoring his fingers gently which made Vince buck. His cock rubbed against Howard’s belly and the double sensations made him cry out out.

“Please, Howard,” he moaned, not really sure what he was asking for but feeling a bit desperate. He was rewarded with another finger and screwed his eyes shut wanting to concentrate on the feeling, wanting to commit it all to memory. He felt full and stretched but safe at the same time. “This is genius,” he muttered eventually, wanting to release some of the tension be felt building inside of him.

Howard chuckled under him. “You look beautiful, little man,” he murmured and dropped a kiss to his forehead.

Vince smiled and pushed back onto the fingers moving gently inside of him. “I’m ready, Howard,” he said, when the feeling was suddenly too much and not enough. “Please.”

Howard pulled out his fingers and Vince actually whined at the loss of sensation until he opened his eyes and found him fumbling with the foil square. His fingers were too slick to get any purchase to rip it, which made Vince feel almost impossibly fond of him. He reached out and took the packet, wiping it quickly against the sheets before tearing it open. He shifted back to be able to roll it carefully over Howard’s cock. He wanted to savour the moment, but was too impatient to really do it. Instead, he shifted back up the bed and kissed Howard hard. They stayed like that for a moment just kissing as Vince tried to catch his breath. He dropped a final kiss on Howard’s lips before he moved back and positioned himself. He grabbed hold of the bottle and poured some on his hand and worked it over Howard. Then he stopped and looked up to catch Howard’s eye before he took Howard's cock in his hand and held it in place before lowering himself gently down.

The stretch of it burned and he paused, feeling sweat begin to gather at the base of his back. Howard had gripped the sheets under them, his eyes screwed shut. Vince smiled a little as he pushed down, liking the way he was being stretched open, even liking the burn of it, knowing that it was Howard that was doing it. It felt like he was lowering himself for hours, his thighs started to burn before he finally was sat flush against Howard’s hips. He stopped, feeling a bit overwhelmed and Howard's eyes opened. They stared at each other.

“Bloody hell,” Vince whispered.

Howard struggled for a moment, trying to sit up a bit without jostling him. They kissed, a wet, sloppy meeting of mouths and tongues. “I love you,” Howard whispered when they pulled back, resting his forehead against Vince’s. “I love you,” he repeated.

“Fuck,” Vince huffed, shifting his hips, coming up a little before sinking back down. “Fuck Howard, I love you too.”

Howard lay back on the bed, breathing heavily, as Vince began to move. It felt so good, the burn and stretch a counterpoint to the coiled lust in his stomach. Howard’s hands fluttered to Vince’s waist, helping to guide him up and down as he started to lift his hips to meet Vince’s rocking. He had to close his eyes against how good it was, combined with the little noises that Howard was making. It felt so good that he felt almost overcome.

“So good, Howard,” he breathed, “so good. Please.” He kept up a litany of mindless words and he rocked his hips. He wasn't even really aware that he was speaking, until Howard growled and gripped him harder at the waist.

“You need to stop talking if you want this to last more than thirty seconds,” he gasped.

Vince opened his eyes to see Howard looking flushed and breathless under him. His eyes were focused on Vince and lit with something he’d never seen before, it was so intense that he wanted to close his eyes for a moment. Instead, he sat up on this knees and swung his leg over so he could lie on his back. Howard made a disappointed sound as he moved off him, but Vince grabbed at his hand and tugged him.

“Wanna do it this way, want you on top of me when you come,” he said.

Howard huffed a breath but moved quickly to lie over him, his arms bracketing Vince’s head. “You mean you’re just tired of doing all the work,” he said, smiling down at him. “You want me to take over.”

Vince giggled. “Yeah, that’s right, show me some of that Moon magic,” he crooned, hooking his leg over Howard’s waist to give him better access.

“Your wish is my command,” he muttered, reaching for the lube again and pouring some more onto his hand. He shifted, getting into position and then stopped. His hand came up to brush away a sweaty strand of hair from Vince’s face. “Tell me if I’m moving too fast, okay?”

Vince nodded, his eyes fluttered closed as his stomach clenched in anticipation. But then nothing much happened and he opened them again. “Alright?” he asked.

Howard frowned, shifting. “I can’t…” he muttered. He was starting to look a bit embarrassed and Vince knew that irritation wouldn't be far off.

“The angle’s wrong,” he muttered, and reached behind himself to tug at a pillow. “Here,” he said, wriggling and pulling the pillow so he could put it under his hips. “Try now.”

Howard didn’t move and he wasn’t looking at Vince. “Maybe we should stop,” he said.

“What?” Vince said, feeling panicked and embarrassed. “No, it’s okay, it was my fault, just try again.” He hitched his foot over Howard’s waist.

There was a long pause before Howard seemed to steel himself and move back into position. When he felt the tip of Howard’s cock brush his opening, he moaned. “Yeah,” Vince muttered, hoping he sounded soothing. “Like that.” Then Howard was pushing forward into him and Vince let out low groan. “Fuck, Howard,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Of course Howard immediately stopped. “Are you okay?” he asked, a frown etched across his face.

“Yes,” Vince panted, shifting his leg and trying to pull Howard in. “So good. Just... I need you to… please just…” he panted, “Just fuck me already.”

“Yes sir,” Howard actually grinned a bit wolfishly at him and started to move.

The look alone would have normally been too much for Vince but as it was he could do little more than cling on as Howard pushed all the way inside of him. He paused there for a moment, breathing deeply before pulling back out slowly. Vince whined and pushed up to meet his next thrust, trying to encourage him to move faster.

“Oh God, Vince,” Howard gasped as they moved together again.

Vince had never felt anything like it, his hands scrabbled on Howard’s back, trying to pull him closer and craned his neck for a kiss. Their lips met to swallow their moans as Howard found a rhythm and began to move more easily. Vince bucked and writhed against him, not able to form any coherent thoughts, but suddenly Howard shifted the angle changed. His next thrust hit Vince’s prostate, making him throw his head back against the bed and let out a wordless cry.

“Yes,” he panted, suddenly worried that Howard might mistake his action for pain. “There, just like that. Fuck Howard.”

Howard thankfully just kept thrusting forward hitting the same spot and making Vince cry out with each movement. It felt so intensely good that he was worried for a moment that he might shatter into a million pieces and float away. “Please,” he panted, moving his hand to his own cock. “Don’t stop.”

“Vince,” Howard groaned low, he battered Vince’s hand away and took his cock into his own hand. It was too much and Vince bucked up and let out another wordless cry as he came.

He could feel Howard starting to move a bit erratically. He forced his eyes open, desperate to see what was about to happen. Howard’s eyes met his for a second before he thrust forward hard twice more and moaned low in his throat. Vince thought he cold feel the moment he came and it made his toes curl, as he pulled Howard closer, wanting to draw out the moment. Howard tensed above him, his forehead touching Vince’s and his breath ragged as he rode out his own orgasm. He let out a long breath and slowly lowered himself on top of Vince for a moment before and kissed him gently.

“That was amazing,” Vince whispered when he pulled back.

Howard opened his eyes and smiled at him. “I love you,” he said and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Vince inexplicably wanted to cry, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. Then he craned his neck and pressed his lips to Howard’s, wanting to bringing him closer; which was a physical impossibility but that didn’t stop him trying. Howard smiled into the kiss and shifted a bit before pulling out. Vince felt bereft and tears prickled his eyes. He felt ridiculous, but there were so many emotions pressing against his chest that he didn’t know what to do. Thankfully when Howard rolled off him, he tugged Vince into his arms so he could lie on his chest and have a proper cuddle. Howard stroked his hair and placed gentle kisses on the top of his head until Vince didn’t think he was going to cry any more.

He felt immediately silly for being such a baby. It was Howard’s first time, not his, if anything Vince should be checking on him. He looked up at him. “You okay?” he asked. “Was that...?”

Howard smiled at him. “You were perfect,” he said. Vince blushed and buried his head into Howard’s chest to try and hide it.

They were still for a moment, holding each other in the quiet room. “We should get a double bed,” Vince said.

Howard chuckled, and Vince felt the rumble of it down his whole body. “Anything you want, little man. Anything you want.”

****

Howard smoothed down his shirt and tried not to fuss with his hair. He'd attempted to put together a suitable outfit, but he wasn’t entirely sure what that was. He took a deep breath and reached out to knock on the door. He checked the flowers in his hand again before trying to stand straight. There was some commotion on the other side of the door before he was pulled back.

Vince glared at him. “What are you doing?” he huffed.

Howard frowned. “It’s seven thirty,” he said, checking his watch even though he knew the time and had checked it three times before knocking.

Vince huffed. “Well, everyone knows that you’re meant to give your date at least fifteen minutes grace in case they ain’t ready yet.”

“Do they?” Howard asked. “I’ve been waiting in the living room for three hours, what else could you possibly have to do?”

“Things!” Vince snapped, eyes narrowing. “My hair ain’t even done.”

Now Howard looked again he could see that Vince's hair did look a bit different to normal, more akin to when they woke up together than after Vince had been in the bathroom for an hour or so. It looked soft and shiny and Howard’s hands itched to touch it. Instead he lifted his hat off his head and bowed slightly. “As you wish,” he said and stepped back.

Vince just rolled his eyes and shut the door on him. Howard grinned at the wood for a moment, secretly thrilled that Vince wanted to make such an effort for their date night. It had been his turn to pick the venue and he’d found them a cozy restaurant with a nearby bar. They didn’t always make it to the second venue on their dates, still too intent on making up for lost time in the bedroom, but Howard Moon was a man of romance and he would not sell his boyfriend short. No, sir, not on his watch.

He walked to the sofa and turned on the TV. He flicked through channels, unable to settle on anything but needing to occupy his hands as the time inched by on the clock over the kitchen table. He gave Vince another twenty minutes before getting to his feet and returning to their shared bedroom. On the other side of the door was a new double bed and a whole range of new furniture that housed their things. But, that didn’t mean Howard didn't understand the need for a certain level of mystery to be maintained in a relationship. Vince had always valued his time to transform himself and he had never wanted an audience for it. Besides, Howard loved the thrill of seeing him emerge, dressed and primed for their time together. Sometimes it felt like his pride at having Vince on his arm, looking so beautiful, might make his chest explode.

It hadn’t all been plain sailing since they’d admitted their feelings and spent the night together. Howard still felt panicked when he thought about how little he had to offer Vince. But when he’d tried to suggest that Vince might want to look elsewhere for a partner more suited to him, Vince had burst into almost inconsolable tears. Howard’s chest still felt tight at the memory. He hadn’t brought it up since, instead resolving to ensure that he was worthy of Vince’s apparent affection. Because Howard was still a man of action and that didn’t mean you rested on your laurels when you’d managed to catch your perfect partner. No, if anything, you had to work harder. The wooing wasn’t over just because he’d somehow managed to trick Vince into thinking he loved Howard back. He wanted to work harder at it, to actually earn that affection.

He knocked on the door and this time there was a slightly shorter pause before Vince opened it. “Alright, Howard?” he said, as though their previous conversation hadn’t happened and they hadn't spent all day together at the shop.

“Good evening, Vince,” he said, trying to give him his most winning smile.

Vince grinned back at him and rocked up onto his tiptoes to give him a kiss.

Howard wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him up into a real kiss. He would have thought the thrill of being able to do so would have dimmed over the last few months. But it didn’t seem to have. Vince continued to delight and arouse his every sense. He let his hands ghost up his back before running through his hair.

Of course Vince pulled back immediately. “Oi!” he snapped. “Get off, that took me ages.”

Howard couldn't help but smile down at him. “Well, maybe you should spend less time on the trappings and more time on the substance.”

“Leave off,” Vince said, shoving him gently on the chest. “Cheekbone said I was the smartest designer in Dalton.”

“Smartest dressed,” Howard corrected automatically. “Not that the other would be a real compliment anyway.”

“Yeah, I know,” Vince said with a cheeky grin, “I just like hearing you say it.”

Howard rolled his eyes. He’d had the latest feature on Vince’s clothing line framed; it was waiting in his workroom, hanging on the wall, as surprise. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy pretending to be put out by the whole thing. “Come on,” he said, affecting a put upon tone. “We were meant to be at the restaurant twenty minutes ago.” It wasn’t true. He’d started booking all their appointments half an hour later than he told Vince, but he liked the slightly abashed look Vince would get when he thought he’d made them late. Not that it made him get ready on ‘time’ but it was the thought that counted.

“Those for me?” Vince asked, nodding down at the flowers in Howard’s hands, instead of moving out of the room.

“No,” he huffed. “They’re for Bollo; he’s nicer to me than you are.”

Another untruth, of course, although both Naboo and Bollo did seem to be mellowing towards Howard since he and Vince had announced their relationship. They were both still prone to calling him a ballbag at any opportunity but there was certainly less heat behind it than before. Vince paid him no mind and reached down and take the flowers from him and bring them to his nose.

He smiled up over them at Howard. The light from their room was soft and Vince looked especially beautiful; it made Howard’s chest tight with emotion. He felt tangled for a moment with it, then he remembered that he was allowed to kiss Vince now and so bent down to do just that.

“You look lovely tonight,” he said, pulling back slightly from the kiss. He found it easier to speak when they were so close.

Vince ducked his head, as though still bashful when Howard complimented him. “Thanks Howard,” he said. “I’m going to put these in water.”

“We’re late,” Howard reminded him, but without even really the pretence of heat.

“I ain’t gonna let these die just so you can eat a bit sooner,” Vince huffed as he went to the kitchen.

Howard trailed behind him, resisting the urge to point out that the flowers were already dead and had been since they were picked. Instead he reached out and ran a gentle hand over the new typewriter sitting on the kitchen table. Vince had given it to him the previous week for their three month ‘anniversary’. He hadn’t so far written anything. He wasn’t entirely sure he ever would, but the thought was so touching that it made him want to give himself a Chinese burn. He felt inadequate in the face of Vince’s earnest belief in him. But he didn’t say anything. There wasn’t any point. He appreciated the thought fiercely, even if it made him nervous for the day Vince realised he was backing the wrong horse in this race of life and achievements.

“Right,” Vince said, stepping back from the flowers he’d arranged in the one vase they had in the house. They looked a bit sad now Howard saw them out of the paper; starting to wilt and droop over. But under Vince’s care maybe they’d perk up a bit before their inevitable death. There was a metaphor somewhere in there, Howard didn’t think it would do him any good to explore it, though.

“You’re thinking,” Vince said suddenly, in the same tone others might say ‘You’re gambling agian’ or ‘You’re stealing from the family’.

“I’m a great thinker,” he said, drawing himself up. “You might want to try it sometime, little man.”

Vince rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat. “Why would I want to do that?” he said, taking Howard’s hand in his own. “Rots your brain, I’ve heard.”

“You’ve been reading too much Cheekbone,” Howard admonished, pulling Vince closer so he could drop a kiss onto the top of his head.

“I ain't,” Vince said, as they made their way down the stairs and through the shop. “You know I only read on the weekends and it ain’t even Thursday.”

Howard huffed a laugh. “That’s just your problem, little man,” he said as they left the shop, turning to lock it behind them. “You should be reading the classics. You need expand your mind or it will start to rot.”

Vince tucked himself under Howard’s arm when the cold hit them.

“I could create a great reading list for you,” he continued, pulling him close. “You know nothing of world.”

“As if you do,” Vince said, taking their joined hands and tucking them into Howard’s coat pocket. “You ain’t even left England.”

“I may not have left England physically,” he conceded, their footfalls falling into step as they walked. “But I have travelled the world in my imagination, guided by the greatest minds to have ever lived.”

“Are you talking about those dusty old books you keep under your bed?” Vince asked, looking up at Howard. His cheeks were rosy with cold and his eyes were bright with amusement and, now he knew how to look for it, love. “I picked one of them up once,” he said with a grin, “because I needed to stand on it to reach the top of my wardrobe, it was so boring the cover sent me to sleep.”

“You just don’t understand their greatness,” he huffed, a grin twitching his moustache. “You fear their great secrets.”

“I was asleep for nearly four hours just from the title,” Vince insisted. “I missed my party! Them things are dangerous.”

Howard puffed out his chest and began to mentally prepare a lecture on the classics that he could deliver over dinner. But then Vince tugged on his hand, apparently his sign that he wanted a kiss and Howard was too distracted to form a proper list. They smiled at each other when they parted.

Maybe this was the real adventure. Maybe this was his one great deed. Being with Vince was as exciting as any book he’d ever read. He smiled down at him.

“I love you,” he said.

Vince ducked his head and grinned at his shoes. “Leave off, Howard,” he said. “I ain’t reading none of your books so you can work that Moon magic somewhere else.”

Howard laughed.

THE END  


End file.
